New Mexico Historical Review

Volume 80 Number 2 Article 2

4-1-2005

Reconsideration and Reconciliation: Arizona's "Brothers Udall" and the Grand Canyon Dams Controversy, 1961–1968

James M. Bailey

Follow this and additional works at: https://digitalrepository.unm.edu/nmhr

Recommended Citation Bailey, James M.. "Reconsideration and Reconciliation: Arizona's "Brothers Udall" and the Grand Canyon Dams Controversy, 1961–1968." New Mexico Historical Review 80, 2 (2005). https://digitalrepository.unm.edu/nmhr/vol80/iss2/2

This Article is brought to you for free and open access by UNM Digital Repository. It has been accepted for inclusion in New Mexico Historical Review by an authorized editor of UNM Digital Repository. For more information, please contact [email protected], [email protected], [email protected].

Durwood Ball, Editor

Cindy M. Tyson, Administrative Assistant The New Mexico Historical Review. USPS 38'-340, is owned and published quarterly Sarah R. Payne, Managing Editor by the University of New Mexico. Copyright Susan J. Schuurman, Associate Editor 200S by the Regents ofthe University of New Mexico. Typeset by Business Graphics, Kristen Bisson, Assistant Editor Albuquerque, NM. Printed and bound in the Meg Frisbee, Assistant Editor USA at CG Printers, Inc., Albuquerque, NM. ISSN: 0028-6206. Editorial Board Subscriptions: $20 for students; $30 for John Porter Bloom individuals; $so for institutions; $so for William Broughton sponsors; $100 for patrons; $250 for benefactors; $soo for corporate and institutional sponsors. Thomas E. Chavez Individual copies are $10. Subscriptions and Meredith D. Dodge other business communication should be addressed to the Subscription Manager. Frank de la Teja Entered as periodical postage paid at Tobias Duran Albuquerque, New Mexico 87'3'-0001. John Grassham Publication number 38'340 before com­ Jerry Gurule posed. POSTMASTER: Send change of address to New Mexico Historical Review, '013 Mesa Robert Himmerich y Valencia Vista Hall, MSG06 3790,' University of New Jon Hunner Mexico, Albuqucrquc, NM 8713'-0001. Albert L. Hurtado Manuscripts and editorial correspondence should be addressed to the Editor. When Sandra Jaramillo submitting manuscripts for consideration, Oakah L. Jones Jr. pleasc providc two typed copies oftcxt, notes, Richard Lowitt and captions (tcxt and notcs doublc spaced), and a self-addressed stamped envelope. The Tey Diana Rebolledo New Mexico Historical Review disclaims Barbara Richardson responsibility for views expressed by contri­ butors. Direct all correspondence to New Joe Sando Mexico Historical Review, 10'3 Mesa Vista Robert J. Torrez Hall, MSC06 3790 1 University ofNew Mexico, Albuquerque, NM 87'31-0001, or contact the office at (50S) 277-S839, fax (SoS) 277-0992, or [email protected].

ON THE COVER

MORRIS (STANDING) AND STEWART UDALL C. '940, ST. IOHNS, ARIZONA (Photograph courtesy Special Collections, University ofArizona Library, Morris K. Udall Collection, Photographs 1956-199°, box 745, no. 7.) NEW MEXICO HIstorIcal ReVIew Volume 80, Number 2 ~ Spring 2005

Contents

Reconsideration and Reconciliation ~ 133 ARIZONA'S "BROTHERS UDALL" AND THE GRAND CANYON DAMS CONTROVERSY, 1961-1968 James M. Bailey

Forging Identity ~ 163 MEXICAN FEDERAL FRONTIER SCHOOLS, 1924-1935 Andrae Marak

From Clerk to Professional ~ 189 NEW MEXICO'S SUPERINTENDENCY AND THE SUPERINTENDENTS OF PUBLIC INSTRUCTION, 1891-1916 A. Kenneth Stem and Dan D. Chavez

Book Reviews ~ 225

Book Notes ~ 261

News Notes ~ 263 Book Reviews

William W. Dunmire, Gardens of New Spain: How Mediterranean Plants and Foods Changed America, by Karen R. Adams + 225

Nasario Garda, ed., Old Las Vegas: Hispanic Memories from the New Mexico Meadowlands, by Jo Tice Bloom + 226

Donald T. Garate, Juan Bautista de Anza: Basque Explorer in the New World, by John L. Kessell + 227

Charlotte J. Frisbie and David P. McAllester, eds., Navajo Blessingway Singer: The Autobiography of Frank Mitchell, 1881-1967, by Jennifer Denetdale + 229

Charles M. Robinson III, ed., Diaries ofJohn Gregory Bourke, Vol. 1: November 20,1872 to July 28,1876, by Larry D. Ball + 230

Enrique R. Lamadrid, with photographs by Miguel Gandert, Hennanitos, Comanchitos: Indo-Hispano Rituals ofCaptivity and Redemption, by Frances Levine + 232

Richard L. Nostrand, EI Cerrito, New Mexico: Eight Generations in a Spanish Village, by Adrian Bustamante + 233

Teresa Palomo Acosta and Ruthe Winegarten, foreword by Cynthia E. Orozco, Las Tejanas: 300 Years of History, by Miroslava Chavez-Garda + 235

Patrick J. Carroll, Felix Longoria's Wake: Bereavement, Racism, and the Rise ofMexican American Activism, by F. Arturo Rosales + 236

Gilbert M. Joseph and Timothey J. Henderson, eds., The Mexico Reader: History, Culture, Politics, by Juliette Levy + 238

Vincent C. Peloso, ed., Work, Protest, and Identity in Twentieth-Century Latin America, by Jose C. Moya + 240 Joe Ben Wheat, with Ann Lane Hedlund, ed., Blanket Weaving in the Southwest, by Helen R. Lucero ~ 241

Hal K. Rothman, ed., The Culture ofTourism, the Tourism ofCulture: Selling the Pas~ to the Present in the American Southwest, by Matthew Bokovoy ~ 244

Timothy Braatz, Surviving the Conquest: A History ofthe Yavapai Peoples, by Trudy Griffin-Pierce ~ 247

Clyde Ellis, A Dancing People: Powwow Culture on the Southern Plains, by April R. Summitt ~ 249

Gus Palmer Jr., Telling Stories the Kiowa Way, by David La Vere ~ 250

Linda G. Harris, Ghost Towns Alive: Trips to New Mexico's Past, by Sandra D. Lynn ~ 251

Frank N. Schubert, Voices ofthe Buffalo Soldier: Records, Reports, and Recollections ofMilitary Life and Service in the West, by Michele Butts ~ 252

Robert Wooster, ed., Soldier, Surgeon, Scholar: The Memoirs of William Henry Corbusier, 1844-193°, and Patricia Y. Stallard, ed., Fanny Dunbar Corbusier: Recollections ofHer Army Life, 1869-1908, by Shirley A. Leckie ~ 254

Virginia Kerns, Scenes from the High Desert: Julian Steward's Life and Theory, by Stephen E. Nash ~ 256

Diego Armus, ed., Disease in the History ofModem Latin America: From Malaria to AIDS, and Suzanne Austin Alchon, A Pest in the Land: New World Epidemics in a Global Perspective, by Jonathan D. Ablard ~ 257 W Ie HIstorIcal RevIew

2005 Supporters

Corporate Sponsors Historical Society of New Mexico

Institutional Sponsors Department of History, University of New Mexico Center for Regional Studies, University ofNew Mexico

Benefactor Klad W. Zimmerle

Patrons Jim Higdon Stephen T. Gassner Richard Donnelly VB. Price

Sponsors Michael Kelly Charles L. Baumgart Pete Golden Ernest Stapleton, Jr. William W. Dunmire Charles Bacchus Reconsideration and Reconciliation ARIZONA'S "BROTHERS UDALL" AND THE GRAND CANYON DAMS CONTROVERSY, 1961-1968 fames M. Bailey

n contrast to their numerous efforts to preserve unique and threatened eco­ I systems as national parklands in 1960s America, Arizona representative Morris Udall and his older brother, Secretary ofthe Interior Stewart Udall, initially fought with zeal to sandwich Grand Canyon National Park between two hydroelectric dams. Both realized that growing agribusinesses and ex­ panding metropolitan areas in postwar Arizona demanded a dependable wa­ ter supply to augment rapidly dropping regional groundwater tables. 1 The proposed hydroelectric dams in Bridge and Marble Canyons would supply the enormous amounts ofelectricity required to pump and deliver Colorado River water south to Phoenix and Tucson. Although the brothers started as staunch supporters of both dams, important events and influences during their eight-year cotenure in Washington, D.C., eventually changed their views. The issue ofhydroelectric dams in the Grand Canyon demonstrated the Udall brothers' adherence to the postwar gospel of efficient water-resource developme!1t to meet constituent demands.2 Yet the dams controversy be­ came a ferocious ideological battleground between aesthetic and economic

Jim Bailey is a historian/cultural resources manager for the Bureau ofReclamation's Technical Service Center in Denver. Bailey received his doctorate in history from Arizona State University in 1999. His current projects include the history of Oregon's Klamath Project and the Upper Klamath Basin in the 20th Century. The author would like to thankAl Hurtado, Chris Huggard, 133 Brit Allan Storey, and Thomas Wellock for their insightful comments and suggestions. (Map by James M. Bailey) r· ..·- ~ r : ." ,., ,-.: "\. Navajo Indian ,...... _---..:.... '\, ,, . Reservation ,#' .\ Kaibab National Forest -I I I 1 •t .. Marble Canyon N Mile 39..5--+ - Dam Site

<, t"~

t_-_ ...... C'Q 'Q 1 ...~ ,··-: ...------1 % Hualapai Indian 'toI. Reservation I (~ ! Kaibab National ·1 Forest

t----·-··~L J LEGB-."'D ....--...." FREE-FLOWING RIVER ~~ PROPOSED RESERVOIR SPRING 2005 BAILEY ~ 135 interests. It forced the "brothers Udall" to reconsider traditional reclama­ tion ideas, utilitarian beliefs on wise and efficient water use learned as youths on the family's alfalfa farm in arid eastern Arizona, and reconcile them with preservationist values they advocated in other environmental battles of the 1960s. Although the Grand Canyon dams controversy has been the subject of extensive inquiry and analysis, historians have devoted attention more to Stewart Udall's high profile position as a member ofthe cabinet in the John F. Kennedy and Lyndon B. Johnson administrations than to Morris Udall's critical role in congressional politics. Only recently has the historiography expanded to examine other key individuals like Morris. 3 In addition to giv­ ing Morris's role greater consideration, this article examines the evolving mindsets of the sibling western politicians as they engaged the shifting so­ cial and cultural currents that forced them to reconsider entrenched priori­ ties regarding their home state's water needs during the 1960s. Stewart Lee and Morris King Udall were born on 31 January 1920 and 15 June 1922, respectively, to Levi and Louise Udall. The brothers grew up in St. Johns, a high-plateau Mormon ranching community in east central Ari­ zona. Nurtured by their schoolteacher mother Louise, both boys grew up with insatiable intellectual curiosities; influenced by their judge father Levi, both excelled at politics, history, and law. Stewart and Morris (and siblings Inez, Eloise, Elma, and Burr) learned at an early age to appreciate the rug­ ged outdoors surrounding their home. As children, the brothers developed contrary personalities. Early on, their mother noticed that Morris was more outgoing, loquacious, and humorous than quiet, reserved, and studious Stewart. 4 After military stints in World War II, Morris and Stewart earned law de­ grees from the University ofArizona, and established a private law practice in Tucson. Stewart was elected to the U.S. Congress in 1954, and served three terms as a Democrat representing Arizona's Second Congressional District until president-elect John F. Kennedy selected him as the thirty­ seventh secretary of the interior in December 1960. Stewart became the first Arizonan to hold a cabinet position. Six months later, Morris won Stewart's vacated Second Congressional District seat by two thousand votes.5 Almost immediately upon taking their respective offices, the Udall brothers faced the complicated issue of increasing Arizona's water supplies. Before the controversy over dams bracketing the Grand Canyon reached its zenith in the mid-1960s, Rep. Stewart Udall, as a member of the House 136"7 NEW MEXICO HISTORICAL REVIEW VOLUME 80, NUMBER 2

Interior Committee in the 1950S, advocated the development of contro­ versial western reclamation projects.6 This support included the Colorado River Storage Project (CRSP), which incorporated the defeated Echo Park Dam, the approved Glen Canyon Dam, and the proposed Bridge and Marble Canyon facilities. His unwavering support for these projects was not unusual in the development-oriented postwar West, where a "nay" vote against any water project, especially home state, was tantamount to political suicide.7 Another key component of postwar western water development was the ambitious Central Arizona Project (CAP), which, in one version or another, had been on drawing boards since 1919. The CAP called for an elaborate series of dams, canals, pumping stations, and reservoirs that would siphon water from the Colorado River and send it as far south as Tucson. The mul­ timillion-dollar project, however, always stumbled over appropriations in Congress. But as 1961 dawned, CAP proponents had a powerful cabinet­ level ally in new Interior Sec. Stewart Udall. By May 1961, they had another ally: Stewart's brother Morris. CAP director Rich Johnson, expressing his enthusiasm, declared Morris Udall's new legislative role crucial to the cause, and Morris pledged the CAP Association his unwavering support.s Repeatedly surfacing during CAP discussions was the question regarding what impact the proposed Bridge Canyon and Marble Canyon dams' im­ poundments might have on Grand Canyon National Park and Grand Can­ yon National Monument. Marble Canyon Dam would have no direct effect, for the planned dam site was situated north of the park's boundaries, but Bridge Canyon Dam, located 198 miles downstream, would directly affect Grand Canyon National Park. Ifthe Bureau of Reclamation (BuRec) con­ structed a dam at Bridge Canyon, the finger-like impoundment would back water through the monument and approximately seventeen miles into the park. Although the Organic Act of 1919 that established Grand Canyon National Park authorized the secretary ofthe interior to permit reclamation projects within the park proper, it never addressed possible encroachment of reservoir backwater from facilities farther downstream.9 As Congress debated the CAP, the threat of the proposed Bridge Canyon impound­ ment to the national park's integrity fueled preservationists' protests against the facility. Unfortunately for Arizona, no federal water projects could be authorized until the U.S. Supreme Court issued a decree regarding the state's forty­ year-long legal dispute with California over Colorado River appropriations. 1O SPRING 2005 BAILEY ~ 137

The Court lifted the moratorium on 3 June 1963, and decided that Arizona was entitled to an annual share of 2.8 million acre-feet of Colorado River water as stipulated by the Colorado River Compact of1922 (California would receive 4-4 million acre-feet annually).H Before the Court's decision, a guarded Morris Udall warned constituents that "winning the lawsuit won't add a drop to our supplies. The battle will return to Congress, where your Arizona delegation will face its greatest challenge ... since statehood."lz In the wake ofthe Court's 1963 ruling, Arizona's congressional delegation­ Senators Carl Hayden and Barry Goldwater and Representatives Udall, John Rhodes, and George "Duke" Senner-introduced CAP legislation to divert 1.2 million acre-feet ofColorado River water annually to Maricopa, Pinal, and Pima counties through a complex 34o-mile series ofpumps, aqueducts, and impoundments. The proposed 74o-foot-high Bridge Canyon Dam, the highest in the Western Hemisphere, was the CAP's financial linchpin. It would provide 1.5 million kilowatts of electric power to pump and deliver the water, and any surplus funds from hydroelectric sales would help fi­ nance CAP-related construction costs. Even at this early stage in the battle, Morris conceded problematic issues with the dam's reservoir and its pos- . sible encroachment into Grand Canyon National Park: "Because ofthis the CAP. has been strongly criticized by Rep. Saylor and leaders of powerful conservation groups. Invasion ofwater into the Canyon, they contend, would violate a cardinal principle ofthe National Park System. We will argue that ,: the water, at its maximum depth, will be 90 feet and the entire portion invaded will be in remote, inaccessible areas not visible from any ofthe rim roads."1l Stewart realized that Colorado River flows, subject to random fluctua­ tions, might not produce enough water to cover legal allotments particu­ larly in drought years. To solve this problem, he wanted to develop a cooperative regional water plan, of which the CAP would be an integral component. Stewart envisioned the lower-basin states pooling all their wa­ ter resources·intoa basin-wide account, one that would address the "future needs ofthe people ofthe Pacific Southwest." Nine days after the 1963 Court decree, he wrote the governors of California, Nevada, Arizona, Utah, and New Mexico to plea for some degree of "water statesmanship," and prom­ ised to work with BuRe~ in formulating such a broad concept-.eventually known as the Pacific Southwest Water Plan (PSWP) - for formal presenta­ tion to Congress in early 1964.14 The same day, Stewart wrote Senator Hayden to inform him that, instead of a separate CAP plan, the "best hope to get 138 ~ NEW MEXICO HISTORICAL REVIEW VOLUME 80, NUMBER 2

Arizona the water it needs is through a basin account and the regional ap­ proach, similar to the Upper Colorado Project pattern."15 Drawing upon his brother's proposal, Morris explained to his constituents how a basin-wide account like PSWP might insure the CAP's passage through the perpetu­ ally willful U.S. House ofRepresentatives. 16 The Arizona Republic, however, dissented. The conservative Phoenix newspaper denounced Stewart Udall's "empire-building" proposal for a fed­ eralized regional project as one that would place control ofthe entire lower Colorado River in the hands ofthe Department ofthe Interior. Yet the news­ paper seemed more concerned about his brother's position, which it opined, fell on both sides of the fence: "Will Morris Udall align himself with the remainder of the Arizona delegation, which unanimously supports the [CAP]? Or will he, in deference to his brother, sit on the sidelines and refuse to help Arizona?"I? An incensed Morris replied to Arizona Republic publisher Eugene Pulliam:

I am in Washington trying my very best to get Colorado River water to Arizona.... And in my judgement one of the biggest obstacles in our water fight is the kind of bitter, uninformed, carping criticism contained in this and other editorials.... Where did you get the idea that I oppose, or might oppose, the Central Arizona Project? ... This project has my NO.1 priority.... In the meantime, I refuse to be bullied and threatened by spectators, however well-intentioned, who don't know what they are talking about. ls

The same day, Stewart confided to Senator Hayden that the newspaper's attempt to bully Morris "into line" was "outrageous and indefensible."19 Not all Arizona newspapers denounced Secretary Udall's plan. Tucson's· moderate Arizona Daily Star, upon examining a PSWP draft, announced its approval principally because CAP received top priority. At the head of the PSWP list was the CAP ($1.24 billion), including the Bridge Canyon and Marble Canyon dams, followed by California projects such as aque­ duct construction and desalting plants ($487 million), Utah's Dixie Project ($44.8 million), New Mexico's Hooker Dam ($28.8 million), and assorted irrigation, w\ldlife, and water table replenishment programs in all lower­ basin states and parts of southern Utah and western New Mexico.zo As promised, the Department of the Interior formally announced the PSWP on 15 February 1964. At nearly $3-1 billion, it was the most expensive SPRING 2005 BAILEY -+ 139 regional water plan ever proposed in U.S. history. Slightly modified to in­ sure that major southwestern cities would have plenty of water to feed fu­ ture growth, the PSWP specifically guaranteed California, Nevada, Arizona, and the portions ofsouthern Utah and western New Mexico that lay within the lower basin an annual minimum allotment of 7.5 million acre-feet of Colorado River water. The plan also stipulated that part of this guarantee included 1.2 million acre-feet from northern California's rivers to offset an­ ticipated deficiencies in southern California's growing metropolitan areas. 11 However, the issue ofa high or low Bridge Canyon Dam persisted. The problem was whether a low dam, one that would not encroach on the Grand Canyon National Park, could generate enough hydroelectric revenue to help finance the CAP. Stewart Udall recommended to Pres. Lyndon B. Johnson that BuRec should btiild the high dam because ofthe "urgency" of the southwestern water "crisis." Although the dam's reservoir would back water about thirteen miles into the national park, Stewart reiterated that the ninety-four-mile-long reservoir, filling one of the canyon's isolated western stretches, would not impair the park's scenic values. Furthermore, a high dam would generate 20 percent more power revenue through hydroelectric generation than would a low dam. "The requirement for the revenues from the high dam under presently applicable feasibility standards," Stewart stressed, "far outweigh the slight impairment ofpark values which Congress anticipated might result from the water development proposed in the Plan."l1 Secretary Udall found the controversial PSWP a tough sell, and his frus­ trations surfaced during his testimony before the Senate Irrigation and Rec­ lamation subcommittee in April 1964. Stewart admitted that he was unable to secure even tentative agreement between all involved states-or even within the Department of the Interior. When ranking senator Thomas Kuchel produced a letter from the Bureau ofthe Budget stating opposition to both CAP and PSWP, Stewart replied that CAP must be built as part ofa regional plan. Kuchel stated that while he generally favored a regional plan, he opposed separate CAP authorization and did not want to see California's water needs compromised to solve Arizona's water problems.13 In mid-summer 1964, Arizona's delegation received disheartening news. A meeting ofCAP parties in Senator Hayden's office revealed no chance for congressional authorization by year's end. According to Hayden, President Johnson refused to back the PSWP for political reasons. Johnson wanted to carry California in the 1964 general election, something Kennedy had failed to do four years earlier. The incumbent president hinted that his 140 ~ NEW MEXICO HISTORICAL REVIEW VOLUME 80, NUMBER 2 endorsement of the CAP might alienate California's voters. 24 Gov. Paul Fannin ofArizona pleaded with Morris for congressional unity in the face of administration opposition. CAP supporters had to "rededicate" themselves "to win passage ofthe Central Arizona Project just as quickly as possible in spite of all odds against US."25 Formidable opposition to damming the Grand Canyon mounted on an­ other front. By the end of1964, powerful national preservation groups such as the Sierra Club and the National Parks Association, along with major national newspapers, denounced both dams as unnecessary threats to the Grand Canyon's environment and the park's aesthetic integrity. The Sierra Club's articulate executive director David Brower argued that the canyon was the "Creator's work," which must be left unaffected by water and power interests.26 To spread their antidam creed to the American public, the Sierra Club published the large-format book Time and the River Flowing: Grand Can­ yon. The glossy, full-color volume stressed that another free-flowing section of the Colorado River was threatened by proposed dams. Referring to what it saw as a potential environmental tragedy unfolding one hundred miles upstream, the Club stressed that beautiful Glen Canyon was forever lost under Lake Powell's rising waters. Now was the time for Americans to voice their concerns about the possible inundation of yet another beautiful can­ yon by government interests. Additionally, the Sierra Club suggested other power facilities, such as a coal-fired steam generating plant, as viable alter­ natives to the CAP's financing dilemmasY In light of their antidam convictions, preservationists failed to consider the Hualapai Indian Tribe, for it held half the land in which the proposed Bridge Canyon Dam and Reservoir would lie. Although the Hualapais had expressed interest in the economic benefits a dam and reservoir would pro­ vide, on 5 December 1964 they issued a tribal resolution demanding that the federal government consider the tribe's economic needs in authorizing either CAP or PSWP.28 Later in the struggle, the Hualapais' support for BuRec's proposals complicated the preservationists' efforts to block the dam, which the tribe believed could lift them out of poverty through tourism­ based recreation revenues and surplus hydroelectric sales. Before the government could proceed on both dams, however, compet­ ing California and Arizona water interests had to iron out their differences. In early 1965, California showed a willingness to fashion a compromise, possibly ending three decades of water-related political acrimony with its SPRING 2005 BAILEY? 141

eastern neighbor. Three days after the eighty-ninth Congress convened, Arizona senators Hayden and Paul Fannin (the replacement for failed presi­ dential candidate Barry Goidwater) introduced S. 75 to authorize CAP. Immediately, California senator Kuchel introduced similar legislation like­ wise to enable CAP. In a bizarre political twist, the most adamant House CAP critic, Rep. Craig Hosmer ofCalifornia, introduced a bill identical to

Kuchel's legislation on 11 January. All bills, if passed, would authorize the construction of both dams. "The unbelievable had happened," CAP direc­ tor Rich Johnson reflected. "There were California bills before the Con­ gress which proposed authorization ofthe Central Arizona Project after more

than 20 years ofuncompromising opposition." Bill terminology changed in an effort to retain some ofthe basin-wide cooperative concepts outlined by Secretary Udall's PSWP.29 Although precisely why California compromised is unclear, perhaps America's fastest growing state realized that decades of rancorous political battles jeopardized its chances of seeing some kind of regional water plan materialize. Less than a month later, Representatives Udall, Rhodes, and Senner in-· troduced their Lower Colorado River Basin Project (LCRP) bill as H.R. 4671. Shortly thereafter, thirty-one oftheir California colleagues introduced companion bills authorizing the CAP and both dams. "This has been a historic day," an exuberant Morris proclaimed. High points of the compro-. mise included California agreeing to help with CAP construction· without insisting on the construction of more lower-basin projects within Califor­ nia. In turn, Arizona guaranteed California an annual minimum of4-4 mil­ lion acre-feet of water until an additional 2.5 million acre-feet could be developed for the entire Lower Colorado River Basin through water im­ ports from other regions. 3D This momentous turn of events accelerated the Sierra Club's efforts to block construction ofthe dams. At an Arizona Conservation Council forum in Phoenix, Brower acknowledged the state's water shortage. He harbored no ill feelings about Arizona moving Colorado River water south via CAP, but pledged to oppose authorization ofthe dams and advocated viable alter­ natives to hydroelectric power. "You should ·use steam generated with coal to pump the water," Brower declared. He also cited a mathematical argu­ ment that worked in the Sierra Club's defeat of the proposed Echo Park Dam in 1955: surface evaporation from the two reservoirs would result in enormous water loss estimated at 200,000 acre-feet annually. A BuRec 142 ~ NEW MEXICO HISTORICAL REVIEW VOLUME 80, NUMBER 2 official labeled Brower's numbers exaggerated, claiming that an estimated

95,000 acre-feet would evaporate annually from both reservoirs.3! To spread its message to Capitol Hill, the Sierra Club mailed free copies ofTime and the River Flowing to key members ofCongress. Upon receiving his copy, Morris noted to his friend Pete Cowgill, a reporter at the Arizona Daily Star, the book's many inaccuracies related to reservoir depth, national park encroachment, and its erroneous claims regarding hydroelectric ver­ sus steam power. Morris also admitted his personal misgivings, stressing that he had "supported most conservation principles and programs and ... ap­ proached this problem with mixed feelings." Morris stated, "Ifall other things were equal, I would prefer not to build these dams."32 The younger Udall was clearly struggling with a personal philosophical dichotomy. While Morris the preservationist preferred not to build the dams, Morris the pragmatist believed that CAP would not pass without them, and his home state's social and economic health and future depended on the project's passage. In May 1965, the federal Bureau of the Budget issued a report on the Senate's LCRP bills. Although it endorsed the Marble Canyon unit, the Bureau recommended postponement ofBridge Canyon Dam for later con­ sideration. The Bureau also believed that two dams might be unnecessary in the broader CAP framework, and expressed concerns over reservoir en­ croachment into the national park. Despite these reservations, the report pleased Arizona's congressional delegation. Representatives Udall, Rhodes, and Senner proclaimed, "Never before has the outlook been so good for congressional authorization ofthe Central Arizona Project." Senator Hayden remarked that the Bureau's conclusions greatly enhanced the passage of a project that he had "worked [on] for over 40 years."33 Three days later, Sec­ retary Udall informed House Interior Committee chair Wayne Aspinall, a Democrat from Colorado, that the Johnson administrafion's position con­ curred with the bureau's deferral of Bridge Canyon Dam.34 By this time, Time and the River Flowing had influenced its target audience-America's White middle class. Letters from people across the nation began inundating Morris's office. Most authors expressed reserva­ tions or outrage that a preservationist like Morris would side with the De­ partment ofthe Interior to sponsor legislation that might inundate the Grand Canyon in a pool ofbrackish water. Arizonan Harriet McIntosh urged Mor­ ris to reject the dams in favor ofa "more efficient, less destructive means of supplying power." He replied that under no circumstances would Bridge Canyon Dam impair the scenic grandeur ofGrand Canyon National Park, SPRING 2005 BAILEY ~ 143

for the reservoir would be situated in a remote western section "almost never seen by the public." Morris reiterated the Bureau ofthe Budget's decision to defer Bridge Canyon Dam and stressed that Marble Canyon Dam's proxim­ ity north of the park's boundaries "could not possibly impact the beauty of the Grand Canyon."35 Despite Morris's geographic rationales, additional national preservation organizations joined the Sierra Club, National Parks Association, and Audubon Society in condemning plans to place dams anywhere within the Grand Canyon. On 22 August 1965, the Indiana Chapter ofthe Izaak Walton League ofAmerica formally castigated the dams as little more than an ill­ conceived government scheme "to produce Federal electricity at the cost of two ofAmerica's most venerable national park units" (Grand Canyon Na­ tional Monument and Park). Izaak Walton League official Thomas Dustin declared that, "ifthe American people permit this intrusion upon their do­ main," no unit in the national park system could be protected "from ma­ nipulation or destructive compromise."36 Both sides soon received opportunities to be heard. In late August 1965, pro- and antidam forces broadcast the positions in the first series of House hearings on the LCRP or H.R. 4671. During eight days of detailed queries and technical testimonies, Morris, a former trial lawyer, aggressively inter­ rogated witnesses on both sides of the issue. One of the most significant lines of questioning came when Morris grilled National Parks Association general counsel Anthony Wayne Smith on the possible environmental ad­ vantages of coal-fired steam over hydroelectric power. Udall pointed out the former's possible negative environmental effects: "I have a clipping here ... showing a coal mine at Four Corners with an ugly scar in the Earth that is going to be 23 miles long when they dig out coal, plus a huge plant that spews out smog and coal smoke into the atmosphere, some of which even­ tually ends up in the Grand Canyon. I would simply like to ask the witness which does more violence to his id~a of natural beauty, an open-pit coal mine ... or a lake like Lake Powell?"37 Standing his ground, Smith countered that strip mining is compatible· with the preservation of the natural environment because the overburdened areas ultimately can be reclaimed. There is no reason whatsoever, he ex­ plained, for any "properly managed" plant to spew excessive smoke and ash. Smith's ambiguous response failed to satisfy Morris, who resubmitted his question on environmental violence and natural beauty. Smith responded that dam-created reservoirs res'ulted in far more irreversible damage due to 144? NEW MEXICO HISTORICAL REVIEW VOLUME 80, NUMBER 2 the permanent inundation ofnatural canyon ecosystems. After Udall yielded the questioning, further testimony by Smith failed to convince the commit­ tee that coal-fired plants would have any less harmful effect on the overall environment than reservoirs. 38 Morris then interrogated the Sierra Club's David Brower over inaccura­ cies that he perceived in Time and the River Flowing. When Morris asked why the Club created a "false impression" in the book by showing canyon areas not threatened by the proposed reservoir, Brower reiterated that the "heart" ofthe canyon would be forever lost. The Club would do everything in its power, he declared, to block any action that might interfere with the free-flowing river. A peeved Morris challenged Brower that it "would be over the dead bodies of many citizens of Arizona and California that you [Brower] stop that river from flowing," while Brower calmly assured his au­ dience that he and the Club would "keep trying."39 And try the Sierra Club did-with a little help. In March 1966, the Club and Reader's Digest magazine cosponsored a "workshop" at the historic El Tovar Lodge situated on the Grand Canyon's South Rim. The magazine invited both sides to debate the merits ofhydroelectric dams to finance the CAP. It became obvious, however, that the Club did not want prodam inter­ ests to voice their views. Although the magazine invited Morris, BuRec offi­ cials, and representatives from the offices ofArizona governor Sam Goddard and California governor Edmund Brown, the Club arranged the program to exclude them from formal discussions. Instead, prodam agents were al­ lowed only to mingle with participants after the workshop's conclusion. And although BuRec officials had set up a scale model of the canyon and the proposed dams and reservoirs, radical clubbers deemed it federal propa­ ganda and threatened its destruction.40 When an enraged Morris threatened to hold an impromptu press confer­ ence, preservationists yielded. Udall accused Reader's Digest and the Club of employing scare tactics and emotional appeals in defending their posi­ tions, and reiterated his geographic rationale that the dams' impoundments would be in remote canyon sections so isolated as to cause no visible harm, with 104 miles of river flowing freely in between. In an eleventh-hour show of support, an uninvited Barry Goldwater appeared to offer the audience, dominated by preservationist partisans, his perspective gained from years spent exploring the canyon's depths. Although the former Arizona senator admitted his unabashed love for the canyon, he stressed that a dam at Bridge Canyon could only enhance it. "When you look down at that river," he SPRING 2005 BAILEY? 145 added, "weigh very carefully the value ofthat water, measuring the human needs against its value for beauty alone."41 His comments moved the crowd. One Club member acknowledged, "It's pretty tough to beat Barry Goldwater on his own ground."42 Two months later, the House reclamation subcommittee held a second set of hearings on the LCRP or H.R. 4671. Noteworthy prodam testimony came from Hualapai tribal chairman George Rocha, who outlined to the committee the possible economic benefits of the proposed dam and reser­ voir to his impoverished people. The Hualapais viewed the development of Bridge Canyon Dam for hydroelectric power sales and recreational pur­ poses as their only real hope to raise their low standard of living. At one point, Rocha asserted, "Bridge Canyon dam is one of the assets we possess which can provide my people a chance to raise themselves out of ... con­ tinued poverty."43 Rocha's testimony was not dam advocacy alone. He also requested amend­ ments to change the proposed dam's name to "Hualapai," to retain full tribal control over the southern end of the dam site and reservoir, and to instruct BuRec to construct a paved access road from Peach Springs. In addition he asserted the Tribe's right to purchase surplus electrical power at a preferred rate and requested that the government pay the Tribe $16.4 million for use oftribal property and reserve all mineral rights and other ancillary benefits for the Hualapais. Ifthe House amended H.R. 4671 to include these changes (which it eventually did), the Tribe would endorse the bill. In conclusion, Rocha offered advice to those who might oppose any development on his people's land. When it came to choices between "new opportunities for my people and saving the wilderness for a select few," he noted, "the Hualapai Tribe has only one way to go ... toward the end ofadvancing our people."44 The consequence of his testimony was that dam proponents had valuable new allies, whom dam opponents could not discount, in their battle to au­ thorize at least one ofthe dams. Rocha's was a powerful message in a United States committing political and economic capital at unprecedented levels to stamp out poverty. Accordingly, the resolute Rocha assailed the Sierra Club's vehement antidam stance. After watching Brower in the Washington hearings, listen­ ing to his speeches, and reading his magazine and newspaper articles, Rocha offered him the perspective of a people who had lived in the canyon for centuries: the western Grand Canyon and the Colorado River are the an­ cestral home ofthe Hualapai people, yet the Tribe does not say "stay out" to 146 ~ NEW MEXICO HISTORICAL REVIEW VOLUME 80, NUMBER 2 all who wish to visit. He explained, "Thousands of people would come to see [Hualapai Dam] and we would welcome them ... to honor our Tribe in the eyes ofall people." Rocha warned Brower that the Hualapais were "tired of being primitives in a canyon wilderness so just a few people can play at being brave explorers in the twentieth century.... If you want an 'Indian War' we are ready."45 Fervent Native pleas notwithstanding, on 9 June 1966 the Sierra Club escalated its offensive by placing a full-page advertisement in major Ameri­ can newspapers. The bold, banner-sized headlines trumpeted, "Now Only You Can Save The Grand Canyon From Being Flooded ... For Profit." In addition to highlighting the proposed dams' liabilities, the advertisement broadcast to the American public the Club's emphatic antidam position. The advertising campaign, costing a total of fifteen thousand dollars, also contained coupons that the Club instructed citizens to mail to influential government officials-President Johnson, Secretary Udall, Representative Aspinall, and the readers' congressional representatives. 46 The same afternoon, an infuriated Morris delivered a fiery speech to the House. "I rise today to express shock and indignation," he roared, "at the dishonest and inflammatory attacks made ... this morning against the Colo­ rado River Basin Project." Calling the Club's blitz the most flagrant ex­ ample ofa distorted media "hatchet job" that he had witnessed during his public-service career, Morris made a point-by-point rebuttal against every point the advertisement raised. He hoped that the Club "would reconsider before proceeding further with this ill-conceived attack on a sound and con­ structive solution to the water problems ofthe Southwest."47 Despite Morris's impassioned and detailed response, the Club's nationwide assault had shaken prodam advocates. The Sierra Club, however, had other problems. The following afternoon, an Internal Revenue Service (IRS) messenger hand delivered to the Club's San Francisco headquarters an ominous warning: the federal agency could henceforth no longer guarantee the Club's tax-exempt status. The IRS stated thatthe Club's advertisements were in possible violation ofsection 17o(c) of the federal tax code-which prohibited tax-exempt organizations from at­ tempting to influence federal legislation-and that the agency would im­ mediately review the ads to determine whether their textual content violated this standard.48 According to journalist Marc Reisner, Brower blamed the tax inquiry on Morris, who publicly denied the accusations.49 SPRING 2005 SAl LEY -+ 147

Former Sierra Club president Edgar Wayburn believed that Morris first saw the advertisement while he was lunching with Undersecretary of the Treasury Joseph Barr on June 9, and that Barr went to the IRS commis­ sioner to demand an investigation. Twenty-four hours later, Wayburn re­ membered, a "small, faceless man in a dark blue suit" arrived at Sierra Club offices with the ultimatum.5o In correspondence to western photographer Ansel Adams, Stewart Udall claimed that a disgruntled Club member work­ ing in the IRS initiated the probe. Stewart also wished to distance himself from his brother's unconditional support for the dams. Referring to his rec­ ommendation to defer the Hualapai Dam (Bridge Canyon Dam) pending budgetary reevaluation, Stewart affirmed that Morris was "responsible to a state constituency; contrariwise, my responsibility is to the President and the national interest. I cannot be ... my brother's keeper when conflicts occur on specific public issues where we find ourselves in disagreement."51 Regardless ofwho tipped the IRS, the advertisements reaped huge politi­ cal dividends. In what historian Roderick Nash called "one of the largest outpourings of public sentiment in American conservation history," mas­ sive volumes of mail poured into executive and congressional offices from Americans worried that the canyon might be forever inundated under a pool ofsilty water. This public groundswell was due to the Grand Canyon's global reputation as one ofAmerica's scenic treasures. Unlike isolated, ob­ scure Glen Canyon, everyone knew about this "flagship" National Park Service property, and no one wanted to see it flooded, especially to facilitate the sprawl of Phoenix and Tucson.52 The sheer volume ofcorrespondence is evident in Morris Udall's papers at the University ofArizona. More than 200 antidam letters are held in one folder alone; most are dated after the June 9 Sierra Club advertisements. While many appeals politely expressed the desire to build the CAP without either dam and urged Udall, as a preservationist, to reconsider his position, many others delivered less-polite, sometimes nasty sentiments. Robert Kocka from Parma, Ohio, wished nothing but "hard luck" on Morris, while one of his Tucson constituents, Lee Dunning, tersely warned, "Ifyou vote the dams up, I'll vote you down."53 As the controversy simmered, the CAP had cleared a major hurdle by the end ofJune when the House reclamation subcommittee approved H.R. 4671 as amended, with both dams included. "This is a red-letter day for Arizona," Morris proclaimed, for he believed the bill stood an excellent 148 + NEW MEXICO HISTORICAL REVIEW VOLUME 80, NUMBER 2 chance for passage by the full House Interior Committee (HIC), California senator Thomas Kuchel called the subcommittee's positive action "a great stride" in fostering new relationships between his state and Arizona on wa­ ter matters and noted that the committee's passage was the first favorable House action on any formal CAP bill since the project was initially intro­ duced in the mid-195os,54 The elder Udall, however, maintained cautious optimism about both dams being approved by the HIe The Johnson administration still believed that Hualapai Dam was financially unnecessary in the larger regional water schematic" Yet the debate raged in the HIC, In a contentious session on July 28, leading antidam proponent and preservationist John Saylor ofPenn­ sylvania accused Morris of "selfish" scheming to advocate the dains, After acrimonious debate, Saylor even tried to delete both dams from Udall's bill, but the amendment failed, The HIC voted 22 to 10 in favor of H.R, 4671, and delivered it to the full House for floor debate,56 In the wake ofthis victory, Morris attempted to set the record straight on his alleged involvement in the Sierra Club/lRS tax debacle, Udall informed his colleagues: "I greatly resent the allegations made by the leadership of the Sierra Club that either I or Secretary Udall caused the Internal Rev­ enue Service to take this action, I flatly deny having played any part in it whatsoever." He mentioned the "courteous inquiry" he wrote on June 10 and mailed to the IRS on June 11-one full day after the IRS officially deliv­ ered the letter. Udall only asked whether contributions made on behalf of legislative lobbying efforts could still be tax-deductible, and nothing else:

At no point has it been my desire to have the Sierra Club unjustly deprived of its tax status, I simply do not want this or any other organization conducting a lobbying effort at taxpayers' expense, , , , As I speak today, I almost despair of my future ability to respect or work with the leadership of the Sierra Club as long as it permits Mr. Brower to continue his intemperate, personal, and false attacks, , , , He seems , .. unable to conduct a discourse without a villain, and want for a better target has placed my name in nomination. I decline the honors7

The Sierra Club should find as no surprise its tax status compromised, Morris admonished, especially when the Club's leadership instructed its member­ ship in 1955 to refrain from any legislative-lobbying activity that would threaten this status. 58 In private correspondence to Udall, Brower disagreed SPRING 2005 BAILEY? 149

with his criticism but did not fault him. Brower assigned blame to inaccu­ rate press reports that quoted his comments out ofproper context. Although disagreeing with Brower on the issues, Morris appreciated the Club director's forthrightness and considered the matter closed.59 Discontent simmered inside the Sierra Club; not all members approved ofBrower's controversial tactics. In a letter to Sierra Club president George Marshall, twenty-six-year member Thomas Jukes applauded Morris Udall's comments before Congress and suggested that Brower and his militant "roughshod" measures were harming the Club. "I deplore the fact that this [IRS] incident represents an all-time low in the public image of the club," Jukes asserted. He demanded that the Club force Brower to resign the ex­ ecutive-director position that he had "obviously outgrown."60 Jukes sent the same letter to Udall, who replied that he found it "satisfying to know that you and other people have also encountered these difficult traits in his per­ sonality and attitude."6! Morris's CAP bill (H.R. 4671), however, was running into difficulty on Capitol Hill. In addition to the Club's letter-writing campaign, key congres­ sional support for the project, including the tenuous coalition of the seven Colorado River basin states, crumbled in the face of opposition from the Pacific Northwest political bloc over the second most controversial aspect ofthe bill-the proposed multibillion-dollar Columbia River intertie. Origi­ nally conceived by BuRec and championed by Stewart Udall as part of the PSWP, this massive diversion project would siphon an estimated 100 mil- '. lion acre-feet ofunused Columbia River water at the river's delta in Oregon, and then transport it three thousand miles up, down, and over seven moun­ tain ranges into the Colorado River basin through a complex series ofaque­ ducts, canals, pipelines, and pumpingstations. Congressional representatives from Oregon and Washington, including the powerful Democratic chair­ man ofthe Senate Interior Committee, Henry "Scoop" Jackson, vehemently refused to sanction this idea, let alone endorse feasibility studies. 62 This opposition was stiff enough to stall H.R. 4671 in the House Rules Committee and to prompt Stewart to advocate what he termed a "stripped­ down" CAP bill for the next congressional session (one eliminating both dams) as a bill "right" for Arizona. In a Phoenix press-club forum, Udall acknowledged that the two powerful blocs of unsupportive Pacific North­ west politicians and preservationists doomed any CAP bill calling for dams and water importations from other regions like the Northwest. Eliminating dams from any bill would not only pacify the preservationists but lower the 150 ~ NEW MEXICO HISTORICAL REVIEW VOLUME 80, NUMBER 2

CAP's overall cost in excess of $600 million. Udall also recognized "insur­ mountable problems" in dealing with any water diversion clause, instead recommending a National Wqter Commission to study America's water prob­ lems. 63 Stewart's concessions to the Northwestern delegation sounded like tactical and diplomatic retreat in the western water debates. In fact, however, these comments demarcate an abrupt reversal in Stewart's water-resource philosophy. By suggesting the elimination of both dams from CAP drawing boards, Udall clearly underwent a dramatic change of heart. This personal transformation solidified on a two-week family raft­ ing trip through the Grand Canyon from Lee's Ferry to Lake Mead in June 1967. Spiritually moved by the experience, Udall admitted that his support ofboth dams had been a huge error. "Besides adventure," Udall noted, "the Colorado trip gave me a first-hand look at the canyon.... It taught me once again that the Secretary of the Interior should never make armchair judge­ ments on national conservation issues."64 He warned that, if hydroelectric interests continued to insist on building Hualapai Dam, the "burden ofproof ... rests on the dam builders. If they cannot make a compelling case, the park should be enlarged and given permanent protection."65 When the 90th Congress convened in January 1967, Morris Udall, John Rhodes, and Sam Steiger (who replaced George Senner) submitted modi­ fied CAP bill H.R. 9 that included Hualapai Dam and the National Water Commission, but without the Marble Canyon facility and the Columbia River intertie.66 Morris was influenced not only by his older brother's newfound aesthetic convictions but by political realities. To aid its state's cause, Arizona's entire delegation agreed to introduce bills different in sub­ stance to help gain passage. Senators Hayden and Fannin introduced S. 1004, which called for neither dam and the stipulation that the secretary of the interior could obtain CAP pumping power from a coal-fired power plant. Subsequently, Colorado Representative Aspinall introduced his H.R. 3300, which called for the CAP, Hualapai Dam, and five assorted upper-basin projects-all in Colorado.67 Shortly thereafter, Senator Jackson introduced the Johnson admin­ istration's bill, as agreed upon by Stewart Udall and the Bureau ofthe Bud­ get. Calling for a CAP and no Marble Canyon facility, S. 1013 allowed Congress to make the final decision on Hualapai Dam and to establish a National Water Commission. Secretary Udall viewed the measure as the least costly and controversial water plan, for it would eradicate the dam SPRING 2005 BAILEY ~ 151 controversy, terminate infighting over regional water importations, and authorize Senator Hayden's CAP on a sound economic basis, thus reducing the project's cost by an estimated $400 million.68 Udall confidently predicted: "The President will win national applause with a no-dam plan. With the controversy eliminated this bill should pass this year."69 Two months later, the House reclamation subcommittee held four days of hearings on Aspinall's H.R. 3300 and related bills. As in past CAP hear­ ings, Rep. Morris Udall aggressively defended Hualapai Dam and interro­ gated its detractors, and remained in the hearings for their duration.7o Although most questions and testimony centered on technical details and economic justifications ofsteam versus hydroelectric power, the dialog be­ tween David Brower and Morris showcased the government's perpetual search for a minimum level ofcompromise. After Brower reiterated the Club's unyielding position of no dams anywhere in the canyon's confines, Morris countered:

One of the things that has troubled many of my colleagues here is what they deem the impossibly adamant noncompromising position of the Sierra Club.... We are willing to enlarge [the national park] to take in Marble Gorge and Vermillion Cliffs.... What would the Sierra Club accept? If we have a low, low Bridge Canyon Dam, maybe 100 feet high, is that too much? Is there any point at which you will compromise here?71

Brower clarified his philosophy: "Mr. Udall, you are not giving us anything that God didn't put there in the first place, and I think that is the thing we are all not entitled to compromise."72 Moved and probably stung, Morris acknowledged that he now understood "the strength and sincerity" of Brower's convictions and that he respected Brower's passion?l Although no Hualapai tribal representatives attended the Washington hearings, two months later the Inter-Tribal Council of Arizona (I-TCA) stressed its position on the controversial dam to Morris. The Council pledged to support the "worthwhile" Colorado River Basin Project as long as Hualapai Dam remained in the bill; again, the issue was one oflifting the Tribe from poverty and securing self-determination. "We Indian people not only want to share our many and varied beautiful sites with all people to see and en­ joy," I-TCA president Filmore Carlos stated, "but we also want to be build­ ers so we can strengthen our economy and raise our standard of living."74 152? NEW MEXICO HISTORICAL REVIEW VOLUME 80, NUMBER 2

By August 1967, however, it appeared that the entire dam proposal was doomed. Aspinall refused to conduct further committee hearings on the House measures until the full Senate passed its bill. On June 29, the Senate Interior Committee had approved Senator Hayden's S. lOo4-a CAP with no dams-and immediately delivered it to the floor for debate. On August 7, the Senate approved Hayden's bill, which included a moratorium on any construction at the Bridge Canyon site, but approved a coal-fired, steam­ generated plant near Page, Arizona, to provide electricity for CAP pumping stations. Combined with apprehensions about water entitlements to upper basin states, this move so incensed Aspinall that he threatened to adjourn his reclamation subcommittee for the year. 75 Even Morris acknowledged that he could see no reason for further debate on any Colorado River dam now that the Senate had passed Hayden's bilF6 But Aspinall underestimated Hayden's determination. Once the cagey senator pressured Aspinall to direct his CAP bills out ofcommittee- mostly by threatening to freeze crucial appropriations for pet projects in Aspinall's western Colorado congressional district-the disinclined Aspinall, once described by former Arizona governor Jack Williams as a "curmudgeon," reconvened his subcommittee and resumed debate.77 Furthermore, the Hualapais continued pressuring the Johnson administration and Congress for approval to build the dam. Stating the oft-repeated position of Hualapai Dam as their economic savior, new tribal chairman Rupert Parker noted that, if the federal government did not fund construction of the dam, the Tribe might build it privately.78 By the end of 1967, only the dimmest of hopes flickered for any dam authorization. Morris still hoped that California representatives, specifically Craig Hosmer, could "move to revive this fight by offering amendments to authorize some form of Hualapai [Dam] ."79 In a December speech, Udall conceded that no bill including a dam could pass Congress: "I fought them­ we fought them together-but the protectionists have won-at least for now."80 Although the House held hearings on Aspinall's bill and the ap­ proved Hayden bill, no discussions on Hualapai Dam transpired.81 On 8 February 1968, Aspinall's bill was amended to place a construction morato­ rium on both dam sites, with the Page coal-fired steam plant as the primary power source for the CAP's electric pumping stations. The measure was then delivered to the full House for debate.82 On May 16, the House passed Aspinall's H.R. 3300 as amended and com­ bined it with Hayden's S. 1004 for a joint conference to agree on minor SPRING 2005 BAILEY ~ 153 particulars.s' "For 20 years our congressional delegation has tried to pass a [CAP] bill, and the House ... has always been the roadblock. Today that roadblock has been overcome," a joyous Morris Udall proclaimed.84 After prolonged discussion, on July 31 the Joint Conference Committee approved a $1.3 billion CAP bill with no dams. To insure this prohibition, one stipu­ lation forbade any state, federal, or private agency-the Hualapai tribe included-from obtaining a Federal Power Commission license to construct dams anywhere within the Grand Canyon from Lee's Ferry to Lake Mead.85 Brower, the Sierra Club, and other protectionists had won their battle. By September, it appeared the CAP had inched closer to reality when the House issued a positive conference report on S. 100486 Morris claimed that, although Congress decided to eliminate the dams, the "misguided but effective campaign ofthe preservationists ... brought this problem to us in a forceful manner."87 Three weeks later, on 30 September 1968, President Johnson signed Hayden's damless CAP into law. The lame-duck Texan,pro­ claimed, "I know what a plentiful water supply can mean to a barren and parched countryside."BS Morris Udall stated that, with Johnson's signature, "a major barrier to sound, orderly growth in the State [ofArizona] has been removed."89 To preclude the possibility ofany dam being constructed in the canyon's northern reaches, Stewart Udall fashioned a formal proposal to create the 26,760-acre Marble Canyon National Monument. The new National Park Service unit would encompass an area along the river from the southern boundary ofGlen Canyon National Recreation Area to the northern bound­ ary of Grand Canyon National Park. Udall explained, "Placing Marble Canyon within a national monument would preserve it from being despoiled in the future by water control projects."90 After Secretary Udall waged a bitter eleventh-hour struggle with his president, Johnson signed Marble Canyon National Monument into law on ~o January 1969, less than two hours before Richard M. Nixon's inauguration.9! It is evident from the Udall brothers' involvement in the Grand Canyon dams dispute that resolute political positions can change to mirror broader sociocultural trends. Morris and Stewart Udall realized that their inflexible, utilitarian-inclined leanings regarding western water development and dam building could not swim against the powerful currents ofheightened, media­ fueled, postwar environmental awareness. The dams dispute was so contro­ versial and acrimonious that overwhelming pressure from the American 154 ~ NEW MEXICO HISTORICAL REVIEW VOLUME 80, NUMBER 2

PRESIDENT JOHNSON SIGNING THE CAP INTO LAW IN 1968 (Photograph courtesy Special Collections, University of Arizona Library, Morris K. Udall Collection, Photographs 1956-1990, box 735, no. 56.)

public and powerful preservation groups convinced both brothers to reverse their positions in favor of a dam-free Grand Canyon, and to seek alterna­ tives that considered the canyon's aesthetic values. Two decades after the CAP became law, a reflective Morris suggested that the defeat of Bridge Canyon and Marble Canyon dams marked a sig­ nificant turning point in American environmental history. He stressed that, in addition to increased public scrutiny, engineers and politicians had to consider landscapes and scenic values in any project's cost-benefit analysis. "Stewart was right," stated Morris, referring to his brother's reversal late in the battle. "The burden of proof had shifted.... Plants and animals and free-flowing rivers and wilderness areas had standing-a value in their own right, and a right to belong."92 He admitted that his decision to support the Grand Canyon dams was one ofthe most "wrenching" in his long congres­ sional career: "Philosophically, I was committed to the preservation of the SPRING 2005 BAILEY? 155

environment, but I was equally if not more committed to the orderly devel­ opment of natural resources in the best interests of my state."93 In contrast to his loquacious younger brother, Stewart has been reluctant to assess his role in the controversy. Assigning credit elsewhere, he acknowl­ edged David Brower's efforts as the primary catalyst in the dams' defeat. "Although not a philosopher like John Muir," Udall noted, "Dave was an original thinker who developed penetrating insights from ideas that were blowing in the ecological winds of the 1960's." He believes that Brower's controversial grassroots political tactics successfully swayed American pub­ lic opinion on environmental issues. Stewart states, "He pioneered the right­ to-know, he taught the rudiments ofwhat became known as ecotactics, and he helped to start the train of thought exemplified by the bumper-sticker slogan, 'Question Authority."'94 Yet it would be myopic to give Brower exclusive credit; other events and influences running concurrently with the Grand Canyon debate fueled or reflected widespread public support for the environment. The Wilderness Act of 1964 was a milestone in American environmental history and land use policy, while the Wild and Scenic Rivers Act of1968 helped to identify . . and protect unique river ecosystems across America. Certain legislation like the Clean Air Acts (1963 and 1967) and the Clean Waters Act (1968) re­ flected shifting attitudes towards environmental pollution. Although Presi­ dent Nixon signed the National Environmental Policy Act (NEPA) into law in 1970, the Johnson administration devised NEPA's structure and purpose. 95 In a more populist sense, First Lady Claudia "Lady Bird" Johnson cru­ saded tirelessly for America's beautification and other environmental issues including the establishment of the Guadalupe Mountains and Redwood National Parks. 96 Stewart Udall's The Quiet Crisis (penned with assistance from famed western writer Wallace Stegner) increased the public's aware­ ness of crucial environmental issues, while Paul Ehrlich's dystopian The Population Bomb penetrated the American consciousness with catastrophic predictions ofthe consequences ofoverpopulation on Earth including mass famine, death, and economic devastation. 97 But within the context of rising public awareness of postwar environ­ mental issues and contemporary literature, the most influential work was arguably marine biologist Rachel Carson's Silent Spring, an eloquent trea­ tise on the toxicological hazards of pesticide and herbicide usage for the food chain. 98 Historian Byron E. Pearson, who has written extensively on the Grand Canyon dams controversy, considers her pleas essential in that 156 ~ NEW MEXICO HISTORICAL REVIEW VOLUME 80, NUMBER 2

Carson "brought the message home to millions of people that these envi­ ronmental concerns affected them personally. Individuals who did not care if a slick-rock wilderness in a remote part of Utah became part of the Na­ tional Park System became quite concerned when contaminated food and water endangered their own health."99 Although not widely discussed, the postwar rise of atomic energy as a viable power source was likely a factor in defeating the dams at the legisla­ tive level. Former BuRec commissioner Floyd E. Dominy, who initially supported both dams (but later rescinded his support for the Marble Can­ yon unit), thought this was the primary force that doomed both facilities. Although the effusive and opinionated Dominy credited the rising grassroots environmental movement as a factor-along with his archnemesis David Brower's efforts as another-he acknowledged that atomic-energy interests relentlessly "whipped" him over controversial hydroelectric projects during the 1950S and 19605. "They were telling Congress wild, speculative tales about how great atomic energy was," he noted. "And then Congress threw it right at me. They said, 'Well, Floyd, we don't need any more ofyour dams. Atomic energy ... that's the future.' That kind of nonsense ... cost me that [Bridge Canyon] dam."loo Whether it was the growth of a populist environmental movement, the pressure ofDavid Brower and the Sierra Club, portentous warnings through contemporary literature, or the influence of atomic energy interests upon Congress, the struggle over dams in the Grand Canyon reconciled rival utilitarian and preservation philosophies in postwar American water and energy politics in favor of preservation. "The wheel of history was turning, and I was in the way," Morris Udall reminisced. JOJ Yet the lanky "Mo" did not stand tall and alone in history's path. His metaphoric wheel also forced brother "Stu" to rethink traditional reclamation ideas that had lingered since the days when both boys helped their father manage water to grow alfalfa in an arid land.

Notes

l. For an insider's assessment ofthe Central Arizona Project (CAP), see Rich Johnson, The Central Arizona Pro;ect, 1914-1968 (Tucson: University ofArizona Press, 1971). A more generalized historical overview of urban proliferation in the twentieth­ century West is Carl Abbott, The Metropolitan Frontier (Tucson: University ofAri­ zona Press, 1993)' For a history of Phoenix, see Bradford Luckingham, Phoenix: The History ofa Southwestem Metropolis (Tucson: University of Arizona Press, SPRING 2005 BAILEY ~ 157

1989)' Tucson's history is the subject of C. L. Sonnichsen, Tucson: The Life and Times ofan American City (Norman: University of Oklahoma Press, 1982). 2. Among the parklands the Udalls helped authorize in the 1960s were Canyonlands, Redwood, North Cascades, and Guadalupe Mountains National Parks, Indiana Dunes and Pictured Rocks National Lakeshores, and Fire Island and Cape Cod National Seashores. For a comparative study on Morris and Stewart Udall and three controversial parklands issues of the 1960s, see James M. Bailey, "The Poli­ tics of Dunes, Redwoods, and Dams: Arizona's 'Brothers Udall' and America's National Parklands, 1961-1969" (PhD diss., Arizona State University, 1999)' 3. Many extant articles and books pertain to the Grand Canyon dams controversy, postwar western water and environmental history, and the roles of key western politicians in shaping postwar water policy. See Charles Coate, "'The Biggest Water Fight in American History': Stewart Udall and the Central Arizona Project," Jour­ nal ofthe Southwest 37 (spring 1995): 79-101; Robert Dean, '''Dam Building Had Some Magic Then': Stewart Udall, the Central Arizona Project, and the Evolu­ tion of the Pacific Southwest Water Plan, 1963-1968," Pacific Historical Review 66 (February 1997): 81-98; and Byron E. Pearson, "Salvation for the Grand Canyon: Congress, the Sierra Club, and the Dam Controversy of1966-1968," Joumal ofthe Southwest 36 (summer 1994): 159-75. See also Byron E. Pearson, Still the Wild River Runs: Congress, the Sierra Club, and the Fight to Save the Grand Canyon (Tucson: University of Arizona Press, 2002). Other important monographs exam­ ine key political figures in western water, reclamation, and other issues, with em­ phasis on Colorado representative Wayne Aspinall. See Stephen C. Sturgeon, The Politics ofWestem Water: The Congressional Career ofWayne Aspinall (Tucson: University of Arizona Press, 2002); and Stephen C. Schulte, Wayne Aspinall and the Shaping of the American West (Boulder: University Press of Colorado, 2002). Unfortunately, there is no comprehensive biography ofSen. Carl Trumbull Hayden, one of the biggest players in twentieth-century western water politics. 4. James M. Bailey, "The Udall Brothers Go to Washington: The Formative Years of Arizona's Sibling Politicians," Joumal ofArizona History 41 (winter 2000): 428-35; and Louise Udall to her mother, 3 March 1931, folder 6, box 1, Levi Udall Collec­ tion, Southwest Special Collections, University of Arizona, Tucson. 5. Bailey, "The Udall Brothers Go to Washington," 434-40. In the early 1960s, Arizona's Second Congressional District comprised all ofArizona except Maricopa County. For a good biography ofMorris Udall, see Donald W. Carson and James W. Johnson, Mo: The Life and Times ofMorris K. Udall (Tucson: University ofArizona Press, 2001). For an informal and humorous look at his life, see Morris Udall, Too Funny to Be President (New York: Henry Holt &"Company, 1988). 6. For a look at Stewart Udall's early involvement with the CAP, see Johnson, Central

Arizona Project, 102-3. 7. On the Echo Park Dam controversy, see Mark W. T. Harvey, A Symbol ofWilder­ ness: Echo Park and the American Conservation Movement (Albuquerque: Univer­ sity of New Mexico Press, 1994)' 158? NEW MEXICO HISTORICAL REVIEW VOLUME 80, NUMBER 2

8. Johnson to Morris Udall, 8 May 1961, folder 16, box 5, Central Arizona Project Association Files, Special Collections, Arizona State University, Tempe [hereaf­ ter CAPA-ASUj; and Morris Udall to Johnson, 25 May 1961, folder 16, box 5, CAPA-ASU. 9. Memorandum, "Summary of Findings on the Effect of Bridge Canyon Dam and Reservoir on Grand Canyon National Park," 24 January 1962, folder 4, box 166, Stewart L. Udall Collection, Southwest Special Collections, University ofArizona, Tucson [hereafter SLU-UA]. 10. For a detailed discussion ofArizona v. California and subsequent litigation struggles, see Norris Hundley, Water and the West (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1975), 282-306. 11. "High Court Sides with Arizona in River Water Case," Tucson Daily Citizen, 3 June 1963; and "Bright New Vista," Arizona Republic, 4 June 1963. On 9 March 1964, the U.S. Supreme Court issued its official decree. "State ofArizona, Plain­ tiff, v. State of California, et a!., Defendants," box 484, Morris K. Udall Collec­ tion, Southwest Special Collections, University of Arizona, Tucson [hereafter MKU-UA]. 12. Morris Udall, "Central Arizona Project: Tapping Arizona's Last Water Hole," Congressman's Report, 21 May 1963, Printed Materials folder, box 477, MKU-UA. 13. Morris Udall, "Arizona's Water Fight Shifts to Congress," Congressman's Report, 21 June 1963, Printed Materials folder, box 477, MKU-UA. Udall was referring to Pennsylvania representative John Saylor, a staunch opponent throughout the dam controversy. 14. Stewart Udall to Governors, 12 June 1963, folder 8, box 166, SLU-UA. 15. Stewart Udall to Hayden, 12 June 1963, folder 8, box 166, SLU-UA. 16. Morris Udall, "Arizona's Water Fight: Which Path Leads to Victory?" Congressman's Report, 12 July 1963, folder 1, box 1, John Jacob Rhodes Collection, Special Collec­ tions, Arizona State University, Tempe [hereafter JJR-ASU]. 17. "Udall, Where Are You?" Arizona Republic, 14 August 1963. 18. Morris Udall to Pulliam, 20 August 1963, folder 1, box 167, SLU-UA. 19. Stewart Udall to Hayden, 20 August 1963, folder 1, box 167, SLU-UA. See also "A Design for Dictatorship," Phoenix Gazette, 22 August 1963. 20. "The Pacific Southwest Water Plan," Arizona Daily Star, 4 October 1963.

21. Ray Hebert, "U.S. Reveals $3 Billion Southwest Water Plan," Los Angeles Times, 16 February 1964. 22. Stewart Udall to Johnson, 14 February 1964, CAP Files folder, box 476, MKU-UA. 23. United Press International, news release, 9 April 1964, folder 7, box 167, SLU-UA. 24. "Mo and the CAP," Arizona Republic, 1July 1964. 25. Fannin to Morris Udall, 3 July 1964, CAPF 1964-1965 folder, box 476, MKU-UA. 26. Brower quoted in John Devlin, "Flooding Opposed in Grand Canyon," New York Times, 10 November 1964- 27. Alexander Hildebrand, "Other Sources of Power," in Time and the River Flowing: Grand Canyon, ed. David Brower (San Francisco: Sierra Club Books, 1964), 169. SPRING 2005 BAILEY + 159

28. Hualapai Indian Tribe, Resolution Nos. 35-64, 5 December 1964, Indian Prob- lems 1963-65 folder, box 466, MKU-UA. 29. Johnson, The Central Arizona Project, 149-50. 30. Appendix, 89th Cong., 1st sess., Congressional Record III (9 February 1965): A 536. 31. "Sierra Club Officer Opposes Dams," Arizona Republic, 11 February 1965. During the Echo Park Dam controversy ofthe mid-1950s, BuRec wanted to build a hydro­ electric dam in the middle of Dinosaur National Monument; the Sierra Club helped defeat this proposal through extensive information campaigns at the grassroots level. See Harvey, A Symbol ofWildemess. 32. Morris Udall to Cowgill, 19 March 1965, folder 7, box 478, MKU-UA. For Udall's analysis on the Sierra Club's book, see his "Time and the River Flowing: An Analy­ sis," folder 7, box 478, MKU-UA. 33. "Budget Reports on Lower Colorado River Project," National Reclamation Asso­ ciation Legislative Digest 15 (13 May 1965): 1-2. 34. Stewart Udall to Aspinall, 17 May 1965, folder 5, box 168, SLU-UA. 35. McIntosh to Morris Udall, 3 August 1965, CAPF 1965 folder, box 476, MKU-UA; and Morris Udall to MacIntosh, 11 August 1965, CAPF 1965 folder, box 476, MKU-UA. 36. Izaak Walton League of America, "Indiana Izaak Waltons Blast Grand Canyon Reclamation Dams; Washington Hearings Start Monday," news release, 22 August 1965, folder 6, box 9, Thomas Dustin Collection, Calumet Regional Archives, Indiana University Northwest, Gary [hereafter TD-CRA]. Ironically, Dustin was working with both Udalls at the same time to save Indiana's Lake Michigan dunes. 37. House Subcommittee on Irrigation and Reclamation, To Authorize the Construc­ tion, Operation, and Maintenance ofthe Lower Colorado River Basin Project: Hear­ ings on H.R. 4671 and Related Bills, 89th Cong., 1st sess., 30 August 1965, 731. 38. Ibid., 731-34. 39. Ibid., 809-10. For another prodam speech by Morris Udall, see "What's This about Flooding out the Grand Canyon?" 89th Cong., 1st sess., Congressional Record III (13 September 1965). Copy in folder 1, box 169, SLU-UA. 40. "Udall Infuriated at Meet," Arizona Republic, 31 March 1966. The forum revolved around an April 1966 Reader's Digest article titled "Ruin for the Grand Canyon?" by Sierra Club member Richard Bradley. Udall, in turn, replied in his "Ruin for the Southwest? An Answer to the Reader's Digest," folder 8, box 478, MKU-UA. 41. Walter Meek, "Barry, Swinging Late, Hits Hardest at Grand Canyon Forum," Ari­ zona Republic, 1April 1966. 42. Ibid. 43. House Subcommittee on Irrigation and Reclamation, To Authorize the Construc­ tion, Operation, and Maintenance ofthe Lower Colorado River Basin Project: Hear­ ings on H.R. 4671 and Related Bills, 89th Cong., 2nd sess., 11 May 1966, 1295. 44· Ibid., 1296-99. 45. Rocha to Brower, 6 June 1966, folder 5, box 4, JJR-ASU. In addition, the Havasupais, neighbors to the Hualapais, endorsed the dam. Havasupai Tribe, Resolution 13­ 66,21 July 1966, reprinted in Appendix, 89th Cong., 2nd sess., Congressional Record 112 (1 August 1966): A 4037. 160 ~ NEW MEXICO HISTORICAL REVIEW VOLUME 80, NUMBER 2

46. The advertisement ran in the 9 June 1966 issues of the New York Times, Washing­ ton Post, San Francisco Chronicle, and Los Angeles Times. The ad is reprinted in David Brower, For Earth's Sake: The Life and Times of David Brower (Salt Lake City: Peregrine Smith Books, 1990), 366. 47· Morris Udall, "In Defense ofColorado River Basin Project," 89th Cong., 2nd sess., Congressional Record 112 (9 June 1966): H 12315-17. 48. IRS District Director to Sierra Club, 10 June 1966, folder 17, carton 192, series 62­ Siri, Sierra Club Members Papers, Bancroft Library, University of California, Ber­ keley [hereafter SCMP-BL]. 49· Marc Reisner, Cadillac Desert, rev. ed. (New York: Penguin Press, 1993), 287. The impetus for the IRS probe is still debated. According to Reisner, some people ac­ cused Stewart Udall of initiating thc IRS's action. Others believed that BuRec commissioner Floyd E. Dominy, a longtime Brower adversary, was responsible. 50. Edgar Wayburn, Sierra Club Statesman and Leader of the Parks and Wilderness Movement: Gaining Protection for Alaska, the Redwoods, and Golden Gate Parklands (Berkeley: University of California Regional Oral History Office, 1985), 293. 51. Stewart Udall to Adams, 21 June 1966, folder 1, box 190, SLU-UA. 52. Roderick Nash, Wilderness and the American Mind, 3rd ed. (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1982), 230. 53· Kocka to Morris Udall, 21 June 1966, folder 31, box 103, MKU-UA; and Dunning to Morris Udall, 23 June 1966, folder 31, box 103, MKU-UA. The only prodam letter in folder 31 within box 103, from Phoenix's Dan McDermott, urged both Udalls to stand firm against "the blandishments and threats of the Sierra Club and other conservationists.... We are Arizonans, and we have a greater stake in this canyon than its self-styled defenders." 54· "CAP. over Key Hurdle," Tucson Daily Citizen, 28 June 1966. 55· Stewart Udall, remarks at White House Press Conference, Washington, D.C., 30 June 1966, folder 2, box 128, SLU-UA. 56. William Shannon, "The Battle of the Canyon is Joined," New York Times, 31 July 1966. 57· Morris Udall, "The Sierra Club and Its Tax Status," 89th Cong., 2nd sess., Con­ gressional Record 112 (1 August 1966): H 17778-79. 58. Ibid., 17779-80. 59· Brower to Morris Udall, 11 August 1966; and Morris Udall to Brower, 15 August 1966, folder 5, box 478, MKU-UA. 60. Jukes to Marshall, 2 September 1966, folder 4, box 169, SLU-UA. For a complete account of Brower's political and financial troubles, which led to his resignation from the Sierra Club in 1969, see Michael Cohen, The History ofthe Sierra Club, 1892-197° (San Francisco: Sierra Club Books, 1988), 395-431. 61. Jukes to Morris Udall, 6 September 1966; and Morris Udall to Jukes, 8 September 1966, folder 5, box 478, MKU-UA. 62. "Project without Dams in the Grand Canyon," Salt Lake Tribune, 18 September 1966. For more on the controversial intertie, see Johnson, Central Arizona Pro;ect, 175-77 SPRING 2005 BAILEY? 161

63. '''Stripped Down' CAP Bill Advocated By Sec. Udall," unattributed clipping, 18 October 1966, folder 7, box 132, SLU-UA. 64. Stewart Udall, "Shooting the Wild Colorado," in Grand Canyon of the Living Colorado, ed. Roderick Nash (San Francisco: Sierra Club Books, 1970),86. John D. Lee of Lee's Ferry (and the Mountain Meadows Massacre) was Morris and Stewart Udall's maternal great-grandfather. 65· Ibid., 87· 66. "Comparisons ofCentral Arizona Project Bills," 18 January 1967, Water-CAP folder, box 420, Governor John R. Williams Collection, Arizona State Archives, Phoenix [hereafter JW-ASA]. 67. Johnson, Central Arizona Project, 196. To counter all dam bills, Representative Saylor introduced legislation that would permanently expand Grand Canyon Na­ tional Park's boundaries to include both dam sites. See Charles Callison, "Na­ tional Outlook," Audubon, March-April 1967, 72. 68. "The Elements of the Administration Plan," 28 January 1967, folder 7, box 169, SLU-UA. 69. Stewart Udall, Report to the President, 24 January 1967, folder 8, box 133, SLU-UA. Scc also "Udall Plan Drops 2 Arizona Dams," Phoenix Gazette, 1 February 1967. 70. House Subcommittee on Irrigation and Reclamation, Attcndance Rccords, 90th Cong., 1st sess., 13, 14, 16, 17 March 1967, folder 90thlIIa, box 1, Records of the House of Rcprcsentatives, RG 233, National Archives, Washington, D.C. [hcreaf­ ter RG 233, NA-DC]. 71. Housc Subcommittee on Irrigation and Reclamation, To Authorize the Constmc­ tion, Operation, and Maintenance ofthe Lower Colorado River Basin Project: Hear­ ings on H.R. 3300 and Related Bills, 90th Cong., 1st scss., 16 March 1967, 458. 72. Ibid., 458-59. n Ibid., 459. 74. Carlos to Morris Udall, 1 May 1967, folder 9, box 481, MKU-UA. 75. Johnson, Central Arizona Project, 206; Nash, Wilderness and the American Mind, 234; and Aspinall to John McCormack, 18 August 1967, folder 12, box 481, MKU-UA. 76. Morris Udall to Gene Wendt, 16 August 1967, folder 12, box 481, MKU-UA. 77. For extended discussion on Hayden's skillful juggling of appropriations to push Aspinall into action, see Johnson, Central Arizona Project, 206-7. Williams's quo­ tation is from an undated Denver Post clipping, folder 14, box 481, MKU-UA. 78. Hualapai Tribc, Resolution No. 28-67, 8 September 1967, folder 3, box 4, Carl Hayden Collection, Special Collections, Arizona State Univcrsity, Tempe [hereaf­ ter CH-ASU]. 79. Morris Udall to unknown recipient, 13 November 1967, folder 17, box 481, MKU-UA. 80. Morris Udall, "Countdown on the Colorado," 19 Dccember 1967, reprinted in Congressman's Report, 15 January 1968, folder 46, box 706, MKU-UA. 81. See House Subcommittee on Irrigation and Reclamation, To Authorize the Con­ struction, Operation, and Maintenance ofthe Colorado River Basin Project and the Central Arizona Project: Hearings on H.R. 3300 and S. 1004, 90th Cong., 2nd scss., 30 January and 1-2 February 1968. H. Doc. 2309. 162 ~ NEW MEXICO HISTORICAL REVIEW VOLUME 80, NUMBER 2

82. "Comparison of Bills," n.d., folder 3, box 483, MKU-UA. 83· 90th Cong., 2nd sess., Congressional Record 14 (16 May 1968): H 3870-3892. 84- Morris Udall, Statement upon House Approval of H.R. 3300, 16 May 1968, folder 1, box 482, MKU-UA. 85· Morris Udall and John Rhodes, Joint Statement, 31 July 1968, folder 4, box 482, MKU-UA; and Nash, Wilderness and the American Mind, 234. 86. U.S. House of Representatives, Authorizing Construction, Operation, and Maintennance [sic] ofthe Central Arizona Project, Arizona-New Mexico, 90th Cong., 2nd sess., 4 September 1968, H. Rep. 1861,21-28. 87. Morris Udall, Statement on S. 1004, 5 September 1968, folder 21, box 484, MKU-UA. 88. "President Signs Colorado River Bill for Water Conservation," New York Times, 1 October 1968. 89. Morris K. Udall, Statement on Signing of the Central Arizona Project Bill by the President, 30 September 1968, folder 5, box 482, MKU-UA. 90. Marble Canyon National Monument, 16 September 1968, folder 3, box 182, SLU-UA. 91. For a discussion on Stewart Udall's frustrating efforts to get Johnson to expand the nation's national park acreage at the eleventh hour, see John Crevelli, "The Final Act of the Greatest Conservation President," Prologue 12 (winter 1980): 173-91. 92. Udall, Too Funny to be President, 61. Emphasis is his. 93· Ibid., 52. 94. Stewart Udall, The Quiet Crisis and the Next Generation (Salt Lake City: Gibbs Smith, 1988), 210-11. 95. On the Wilderness Act, see Nash, Wilderness and the American Mind, 200-227. For a concise overview ofpostwar American environmental politics, see Samuel P. Hays, A History ofEnvironmental Politics since 1945 (Pittsburgh: University ofPitts­ burgh Press, 2000). 96. For a detailed look at Lady Bird Johnson, see Lewis L. Gould, Lady Bird Johnson and the Environment (Lawrence: University Press of Kansas, 1988). 97. Stewart Udall, The Quiet Crisis (New York: Avon Books, 1963); and Paul Ehrlich, The Population Bomb (New York: Ballantine Books, 1968). 98. Rachel Carson, Silent Spring (Boston: Houghton Mifflin Co., 1962). 99. Pearson, Still the Wild River Runs, 86-87. 100. Floyd E. Dominy, Oral History Interviews, Transcript of Bureau of Reclamation Oral History interviews conducted by Brit Allan Storey, Senior Historian, Bureau of Reclamation, 6 April 1994 and 8 April 1996, 77. For humorous, entertaining "conversations" between Dominy and Brower as they boated across Lake Powell and rafted down the Grand Canyon, see John McPhee, Encounters with the Archdruid (New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 1971), 153-245. 101. Udall, Too Funny to be President, 54- Forging Identity MEXICAN FEDERAL FRONTIER SCHOOLS, 1924-1935

Andrae Marak

lutarco Elfas Calles dreamed offorging a single national Mexican iden­ Ptity out of the many cultures that existed at the end of the Mexican Revolution. His main weapon in the battle for a united Mexico was the federal primary school, where children could be taught patriotic values and the proper use ofSpanish (especially among the nation's various indigenous groups). Nowhere were federal primary schools more important than along the U.S.-Mexico border. Taking advantage ofthe "voluntary" repatriation ofan estimated five hun­ dred thousand Mexicans from the United States during the Great Depres­ sion, the federal government set up a series of escuelas {ronterizas (frontier schools) in the larger cities along the border in January 1930.1 The mission of these schools was to take Mexicans who were considered suspicious be­ cause they had just returned from the United States or had spent their lives I along the border, and mold them into patriotic citizens who would be will- ing to devote themselves to the economic and social advancement of their mother country.

Andrae Marak is Assistant Professor of History and Political Science at California University of Pennsylvania. His current research focuses on the assimilation campaign of the Seri and Tohono 0'odham. Part ofthe research for this article was supported by a Garcia-Robles Ful­ bright Dissertation Fellowship and grants from the Latin American and Iberian Institute and the Graduate School at the University of New Mexico. In addition, suggestions by Linda B. Hall, Engracia Loyo, Ev Schlatter, Sam Truett, and the New Mexico Historical Review's anony- 163 mous reviewers proved invaluable. 164? NEW MEXICO HISTORICAL REVIEW VOLUME 80, NUMBER 2

The schools were created to provide an alternative to better funded schools on the U.S. side ofthe border, where many Mexican parents sent their chil­ dren. Frontier schools would teach their children Spanish, Mexican songs and hymns, and their nation's history rather than English and the Pledge of Allegiance of the United States. Although most parents were in favor of increasing funds for border schools and teaching Mexican patriotism, they also understood the necessity oflearning English to get ahead in the bilin­ gual border economy. Thus, parents pushed the Mexican government to hire native English-speaking teachers and to mimic the course offerings ofAmerican schools. By threatening to keep their children in U.S. schools unless these demands were met, Mexican parents partially undermined the original intent of the federal government and reshaped frontier school curriculum. It is my contention that Mexican officials wanted to encourage U.S. eco­ nomic involvement in the border economy but discourage its citizens from cultural and social involvement in the burgeoning economy. This article investigates this contradiction by providing an institutional sketch of the frontier schools created by the Mexican federal government. I explore the battle against U.S. cultural and economic imperialism waged by the Mexi­ can government from 1924-1935 in Coahuila, Chihuahua, and Sonora and the resultant struggles over the cultural identity of people living along the border. First, I consider these struggles through a historical outline of the American-Mexican frontier and Calles's adoption of frontier schools as a means of resisting U.S. economic and cultural imperialism. Second, I ex­ amine how frontier schools in Coahuila, Chihuahua, and Sonora affected local communities.2The educational bureaucrats responsible for the schools in each state adopted specific approaches as a result ofthe differing cultural legacies in each region. The personal idiosyncrasies of educational inspec­ tors in charge of overseeing the schools was a significant factor in the role that the schools played in border culture and economy.

The Creation of the Border

Much like the identities of the people who populated it, the U.S.-Mexican frontier is a historical construction. The present-day border between the two countries is the product of over a century and a half of U.S. economic, cultural, and military imperialism and the subsequent contestation and ac­ commodation among Mexicans, Americans, and their governments.J SPRING 2005 MARAK? 165

The Mexican Revolution (1910-1917) did not end the efforts of some prominent U.S. lawmakers to intervene in Mexican territory and sovereignty. Toward the end ofMexican president Victoriano Huerta's (1913-1914) term in office, Pres. Woodrow Wilson's special agent, John Lind, suggested that the United States needed to either militarily intercede in Mexican affairs or back Huerta's opponents financially. The proposed U.S. military interven­ tion was actually supported by several prominent Mexican politicians, the most important of whom was Luis Cabrera.4 Wilson decided to place an embargo on Huerta's regime while lifting the embargo against his political enemies, the Constitutionalists. When the United States finally did militarily intervene in the Mexican Revolution by invading Veracruz in April 1914, the vast majority of Mexicans were under­ standably opposed to the U.S. interference.5 Despite the relatively favorable view most Mexican politicians and policymakers had toward the future role of U.S. capital in the Mexican economy, the end ofthe Revolution did not bring respite from those Ameri­ cans who still saw Mexico as a land that belonged under the auspices ofthe United States. For example, American politicians like New Mexico senator Albert B. Fall advocated heavy involvement in Mexico because of his own racism. As chairman of the United States Senate Subcommittee to Investi­ gate Mexican Affairs in 1919, Fall suggested that since Mexicans were by na­ hlfe physically weak and morally base, the United States should intervene in Mexican affairs-perhaps even waging war if necessary-in order to save Mexicans from their own decrepitude.6 Despite the heavy-handed approach that the United States sometimes took in its dealings with Mexico-before, during, and after the Revolution­ many Mexicans, including the postrevolutionary leaders from the North, were in favor ofcontinued U.S. investment.? Furthermore, the overall amount ofdirect U.S. investment rose during the 1920S as Obregon and Calles were in the process of reconstructing their shattered nation.s Although Calles was interested in increasing direct U.S. investment in the Mexican economy, he was determined that incoming capital benefit Mexicans. Calles argued that he was "fighting not to destroy capital, but rather so that it might work according to our laws."9 He and his educational ministers were concerned that the spread of U.S. capitalism would bring with it the spread of U.S. culture. Thus, they paid special attention to the forging of proper Mexican identity among borderland dwellers by inculcating patriotic values through special frontier schools. 166 ~ NEW MEXICO HISTORICAL REVIEW VOLUME 80, NUMBER 2

In late 1929 the Secreta ria de Educaci6n Publica (SEP) approved a pre­ liminary budget for the "creation of well organized and equipped border schools with the object of impeding Mexican children who might go to the United States to receive their primary education."lo Originally the SEP pro­ posed opening five schools: four along the U.S.-Mexico border in Ciudad Juarez, Piedras Negras, Nuevo Leon, and Matamoros, and one along the Mexico-Guatemala border in Motozintla.1I Their top priority was to stem the flow of Mexican children going to the United States, consequently, the frontier school in Motozintla, Chiapas, never actually received funding. 12 In early 1930 SEP officials acknowledged that they had bungled the job ofcreating frontier schools by failing to take into account the need to obtain and repair the school buildings within which the new frontier education would be offered. SEP informed educational inspectors in charge of imple­ menting frontier school policies that they would have to obtain both the moral and material support oflocal and state officials for the new policies in order to be successfulY The failure of SEP to secure funding for construction of the schools did not dampen the ideological importance the ministry placed on the schools. In 1930 SEP officials reiterated that the frontier schools were an important tool in constructing a "true nation" out of the heterogeneous cultural mi­ lieu of contemporary Mexico. 14 Primary schools, in general, they argued, were the key to Mexico's future prosperity:

Schools are also necessary, many schools, but primary schools that study and understand our national life; that instill a love for our country ... schools whose teaching principally imparts true knowledge of that which is ours and feels proud of it; [schools] in which the knowledge ofgeography, math, history, etc. serves to awaken a love of nation and promotes an action that benefits the land that saw us born. 15

Despite the clear goals of the new frontier schools and the federal control over policy-making decisions, the achlal implementation of frontier school policy would prove to be anything but uniform across the U.S.-Mexico border.

Frontier Education in Coahuila

In January 1930 Ramon Mendez, the head offederal education in Coahuila, responded to federal directives. He officially requested that a frontier school SPRING 2005 be established in Piedras Negras on the other side ofthe border from Eagle Pass, Texas, in order to "give Mexican children the opportunity to receive a better education and thus counteract the practice ofthese children going to the United States's schools."16 The municipal president of Piedras Negras immediately offered his assistance, promising to give the federal govern­ ment the city's best existing school for the new project. Mendez readily accepted and also asked SEP officials in Mexico City for permission to es­ tablish a second frontier school in Villa Acuna, across the border from Del Rio, Texas. Mendez believed, however, that for the frontier schools to be successful, "it would be very necessary, for example, that the frontier school have some professors that know and teach English; since [Piedras Negras] is contiguous with Eagle Pass, many parents want their children to learn the language and for this reason they send them to the schools of the other country."l7 Early on, the original aim of policymakers to create patriotic Mexicans through the frontier schools was und~rmined by the need to adapt the schools to the conditions and the desires of local inhabitants. In February, Mendez convinced (or so he thought) the governor of

Coahuila, Nazario S. Ortiz, to pay the 150 pesos monthly rent for the school building that had been set aside by the municipal president ofPiedras Negras. Mendez reiterated to Ortiz that the school would have to teach English classes. In addition, he argued that the school would need a kindergarten and that it would have to offer preparatory classes to prevent students in the fifth and sixth grades from abandoning "Mexico in search of a high school" in the United States. Interestingly, Mendez informed the SEP that the school had yet to open because it lacked furniture. He did not want to take the furnitur~ from other nearby schools, thereby crippling already existing schools for the sake ofthe frontier school. Ortiz had ordered the local construction of the furniture, but, in a twist of irony, Mendez noted that he could acquire the furniture more quickly and cheaply ifhe purchased it in the United States. IS It appears, however, that the municipal president of Piedras Negras and the governor ofCoahuila were using the promotion ofthe frontier school to advance their own personal and political agendas. In January the municipal president had offered to cede ownership of the city's best existing school to the federal government for the establishment o(a frontier school. Only a month later, however, the head of federal education in Coahuila was not only looking for someone to pay the rent, presumably to the municipal 168 ~ NEW MEXICO HISTORICAL REVIEW VOLUME SO, NUMBER 2 president or one of his associates, but was also looking for furniture so that students could begin to attend the school. Common sense suggests that the actual building never had been a school or, at the very least, was no longer functioning as one; otherwise it would already have had some furniture and supplies. In May, Rafael Castro, the federal inspector of schools in the border region, complained that the fron­ tier school in Piedras Negras was located in a poor, undersized building for which the SEP had to pay the governor a monthly rent. The small size of the school was especially problematic in light of the fact that a large num­ ber of federal railroad workers, apparently recently laid off, had settled in Piedras Negras and their children would need to attend the school.!9 In any case, the municipal president and the governor rightly viewed the federal government as a positive investor in the educational advancement of local citizens and as a client to whom they could rent urban property.20 SEP officials agreed to offer kindergarten and English classes at the fron­ tier school and to fund any other programs that might provide a social ser­ vice to the local community.2! In response, local educators in Piedras Negras established a sociocultural center where classes in English, dancing, and singing were offered for both primary school students and adults. Federal teachers organized a "tribu de exploradores," based on the model of boy scouts practiced in Britain and the United States. 22 Teachers were also sent on a campaign of home visits to teach locals how to live healthier lives and to convince them to cooperate with the frontier schooJ.23 By June 1930 the sociocultural center was officially open.24 The school itself had an enrollment of 113 boys and 98 girls and an actual attendance of 90 boys and 79 girls. 25 It appears, however, that the lure of U.S. schools far outweighed initial attempts of the federal government to convince Mexi­ cans to attend Mexican schools. The federal inspector of the border region requested that the head of Piedras Negras's federal secondary school hand over all the excess school furnit~re and supplies that he had on hand (as a result oflow enrollment and attendance rates) so that they could be used in the underfunded primary schools in the area.26 The next two years of the functioning of the frontier school in Piedras Negras have disappeared from the archival records. The records of educa­ tional inspectors dealing with other frontier issues along the u.S.-Coahuila border, however, are rich. Two of the most prominent border issues facing education officials during this period were relations with colonos (colonists) and irrigation workers. In 1931, while visiting the various schools under his SPRING 2005

charge, Federal Inspector ofSchools Castro, began exhorting Mexicans who lived along the border to protect "our nationals that are being deported from the United States."ll Meanwhile, the Com)si6n Nacional de Irrigaci6n (National Irrigation Commission) was in the midst of a large project called the Sistema de Riego No.6 (Irrigation System No.6) along the Rio Bravo. Local residents, colonos, and irrigation officials would soon be working at cross-purposes with SEP officials. Most campesinos in the region had been granted provisional ejidos. In 1931 most ofthe ejidatarios were notified that they would be relocated to San Carlos, Coahuila (the previous site ofa hacienda), to make room for newly arriving colonos.28 Many of these ejidatarios understandably refused to put forth any further effort to improve the local federal schools that they would soon be forced to abandon.29 Some schools were subsequently shut down as a result. JO Castro tried to get the federal government to change the status of the ejidatarios in La Bandera to that ofcolonos since they had been living there for their entire lives. When he was successful in doing so, he discovered that since colonos were not legally bound to cooperate with federal schools in the same ways that ejidatarios were, the locals still refused to work with him on educational matters. In response, Castro advocated the adoption ofsports and other "honest diversions" and the expansion of the local anti-alcohol campaign to eradicate the prominent level of disorder and frequent orgies that he believed were practiced by both local inhabitants and federal em­ ployees working on the irrigation system. J1 In addition to being at odds with the local colonos and the irrigation sys­ tem workers, Castro had a difficult time convincing irrigation officials to do­ nate the five hectares ofland demanded by law for primary schools. The local manager of the system continually promised Castro the land, but then re­ fused to turn it over, suggesting that he would again discuss the land with his superiors. J2 In EI Tepeyac, Castro discovered that many ejidatarios who had officially been granted lands were renting them or had outright sold them and were living in nearby Jimenez to take advantage ofthe cash economy.JJ In early 1932 federal inspectors tried a new approach to mold the identi­ ties of frontier Mexicans. They pushed local communities to purchase ra­ dios so that they could listen to the official broadcasts ofthe Partido Nacional Revolucionario (PNR) or National Revolutionary Party.J4 Castro complained that the salary cut he (and the rest offederal employees) received as a result ofthe economic depression was hampering his ability to purchase radios for all of the schools under his charge.J5 170 -+ NEW MEXICO HISTORICAL REVIEW VOLUME 80, NUMBER 2

The federal governmenes attempts to promote patriotism along the bor­ der, however, may have been undermined by Coahuila's governor, Nazario S. Ortiz. Governor Ortiz believed that while schools should playa role in shaping people's attitudes, the state did not have enough resources to waste valuable school time on festivals, parades, and concerts. Such events, Ortiz believed, had a "marked character of exhibitionism" and took the place of real learning. Nonetheless, he was in step with the SEP in advocating sports leagues, cooperatives, and community-based cajas de ahorro (credit unions) to mitigate the severity of the Depression.36 In April Mexico's president, Pascual Ortiz Rubio, decreed that the sale ofliquor within one hundred kilometers ofthe border would henceforth be illegal. Castro worked to convince the local inhabitants to become part of vigilante groups to enforce strict compliance with the new decree. He also pushed to ensure that every school had a field for baseball so that people would have something constructive to do during their normal drinking hours. The enforcement ofthe anti-alcohol decree had its greatest impact in Villa Acuna, where a number of cantinas closed. 37 As late as 1934, the campaign against alcohol consumption and the move to close all cantinas near the border had still not been successful. Castro noted that there were no drink­ ing establishments located in the vicinity offrontier schools, but that it would be impossible to close down all the local centers of vice because of their widespread prevalence. 38 In Mira Villa Castro tried to get the locals to deco­ rate their school and its open air theater so that they would serve as "cultural propaganda for our federal education system." He also tried to convince locals to move closer to the school so that their children would find it easier to attend. 39 Another inspector, Abraham Arellano, noted that the poor con­ struction and lack of furniture in the schools located on the shores of the Rio Bravo in San Vicente and Boquillas were an embarrassment to Mexico; he asked municipal authorities to lend a helping hand to the federal government's project. 40 By 1933 the frontier school in Piedras Negras was in deep trouble as a result of federal mismanagement. The new head of federal education in Coahuila, Maurilio P. Nanez, noted that over four days in January there had been a suspicious and sudden influx of students, likely to secure the minimum number of 288 students necessary for keeping six teachers and assistants employed. The director of the school, Carlos Morales Sanchez, was fired because he lacked the "active, social, nationalist, and democratic tendencies" necessary to advance the ideology of the Revolution. Federal SPRING 2005 MARAK? 171 authorities also noted that Sanchez first began offering night classes for adults at the end of January, probably as a last-ditch effort to save his job.4! When the school first opened in 1930, the head of federal education in Coahuila, Ramon Mendez, boasted that the frontier school would offer night classes for adults focusing on English, dancing, and singing by the end of the first semester of the school's existence. It is possible that these classes only existed on paper at the time, but even if they were implemented, it is clear that they had a very short life span. The new director of the frontier school, Eliseo Ruiz Vadillo, attempted to overcome the school's past difficulties by promoting its work on the local radio station. He asked the president of the local radio station, XETN, to regularly air educational lectures, programs, and works undertaken in school. 42 It was not long, however, before he too ran into difficulties. Two months after taking over the frontier school, it was discovered that the teacher who had been put in charge ofthe local cooperative, Gilberto Ceja Torres, was embezzling cooperative funds. 43 By the end ofApril, Vadillo had been replaced by a new director, Fabian Garda R,44 Garda was quick to make changes. He immediately moved to have Ceja Torres fired, and then addressed the conditions of the frontier school. He noted that the majority ofthe.adults who had been recruited to attend night classes had already passed the sixth grade. Thus, it would be necessary to hire teachers to give instruction in typewriting, singing, and choir. Finally, Garda observed that the school had recently received baseball equipment from the PNR, and he promised to put the equipment to good use. 45 In January 1933 the SEP pushed for the advancement offrontier school­ ing by arranging for two additional frontier schools, one in Villa Acuna and the other in Piedras Negras. The minister of education, Narciso Bassols (1931-1934), notified Coahuila's governor that he would be turning one of the federal primary schools in Villa Acuna into a frontier school.46 The new school would be staffed by 6 federal teachers, 3 municipal assistants, and would be capable of instructing 350 primary studentsY The SEP figured that setting up a frontier school in Villa Acuna (after having been unable to find the resources in the past) was especially important because municipal authorities in Del Rfo, Texas, had established several schools specifically aimed at assimilating Mexican children into U.S. culture. 48 After making the basic arrangements for the frontier school in Villa Acuna, the SEP turned over its management to the state of Coahuila.49 By January 1934, work on the Villa Acuna school stopped due to'lack offunds. School officials hoped 172 ~ NEW MEXICO HISTORICAL REVIEW VOLUME 80, NUMBER 2 to secure additional funds from the state government to add fifth and sixth grade classrooms and the necessary additional teachers to staff them.50 At the end of1934, the new federal inspector in the area, Micaela Zuniga R, found it necessary to organize a fundraiser for the state-run frontier school in Villa Acuna. Even in late 1934, the school still lacked proper lighting and water, and municipal authorities had almost completely neglected the schooPI The problem of funding was compounded by the fact that locally supported private schools lured students away from frontier schools that advanced the anti-religious tenets of socialist education promoted by the minister of education, Narciso Bassols. Local citizens pulled their children from federal schools and placed them in clandestine private schools where they were given religious instruction. Even the closure of seven of these private schools had failed to increase attendance at federal schools. Zuniga tried to convince the inhabitants of Villa Acuna to send their children back to federal schools (and in the pro­ cess keep parents out oflocal cantinas) by offering increased sporting events and classes in sewing and knitting. Despite all their efforts, both the federal school and Villa Acuna itself remained in "terrible conditions."52 Early in 1933, the second frontier school in Piedras Negras opened its doors. The school initially lacked electricity and was thus limited to offering only day classes. The school's first director, Carlos Flores Fortis, had prob­ lems getting along with the student body. He asked for a two-month leave of absence, and was subsequently replaced.'3 By March the new director, Mario Matus Micelli, had opened a school store to sell products produced during classes. Micelli arranged for electricity at the school and night classes, which focused on sewing and small industries, were held regularly, and enrolled eighty women.54 When school officials tried to offer night classes in basic reading and writing in April 1933, only ten people were present. When they expanded the number ofclasses to include domestic economy, Spanish, math, speech, cultural aesthetics, and singing, an additional 128 people participated (88 of them women).55 Night classes on basic reading and writing were the bread and butter of rural primary schools in Mexico during this period. The fact that reading and writing classes proved highly unsuccessful, and that they were replaced by other classes that found a greater general interest among locals suggests two things: differing needs between rural and urban dwellers, and a willingness on the behalfof SEP officials to adjust to parental pressure and desires in order to make an impact in the local com- SPRING 2005 MARAK ~ 173 munity. Nonetheless, even urban schools still advanced Calles's belief that agriculture would be the engine of future Mexican prosperity. In accor­ dance with agricultural ideals, educational inspectors were forced to find suitable agricultural lands, often far from the actual location ofurban schools, for students to learn modern farming techniques, even if they would never put them to use. 56 At the behest ofRafael Castro, municipal officials in Piedras Negras imple­ mented a 2 percent custom's fee to pay for the construction of a local high school to provide a Mexican alternative for city residents and as an improve­ ment over the frontier schools. By January of 1934, however, the fee was dropped due to the dismissal of the municipal president, the administrator of customs, and the head of the local post office when President Lazaro Carden,as assumed office in Mexico City. In place of the custom's fee, the new municipal president offered to donate ten pesos toward the purchase of cultivable land needed by the frontier schools. 57 By late 1934, the implementation of socialist education practices that purported to counter subversive religious propaganda inhibiting Mexico's economic and social progress were in full swing. 58 In early 1935 federal teach­ ers were active in the local community and helped local brickmakers form a union that pressed for and received a 1. 5 pesos daily wage. Despite these advances, the frontier schools still did not have regular English, music, or typewriting teachers, and attendance was suffering. 59 When the 1934-1935 school year ended, Castro informed his superiors that ifMexico really wanted to compete against the education being offered in the United States, Mexico would have to take some dramatic steps. Castro estimated that to compete with the United States, five new schools, each staffed with six regular teachers and two additional teachers to give instruc­ tion in English and other special courses, must be opened. He anticipated that these schools would cost up to 400,000 pesos to put into place and an additional 1,500 pesos per month to run effectively. Castro argued that the frontier schools located in Piedras Negras and Villa Acuna educated only 10 percent and 20 percent respectively of school-aged children in their local communities. The children not attending the frontier schools either attended private schools (where many ofthem were being illegally instructed on reli­ gious matters) or crossed the border to go to U.S. schools fiO Boosting atten­ dance numbers at the frontier schools, Castro realized, would be a difficult task. Teachers in the United States were earning about h5 per month, more 174 -+ NEW MEXICO HISTORICAL REVIEW VOLUME 80, NUMBER 2 than Mexico's inspector generals. In addition, the United States was run­ ning well-funded schools specifically aimed at assimilating Mexican chil­ dren into U.S. society. Finally, many ofthe children that did attend Mexican primary schools were forced to go to the United States if they wanted to attend secondary or high school. Despite evidence to the contrary, Castro did not believe that rural Mexi­ cans were going to the United States because of better schools; he did not deny, however, that many urban Mexicans were certainly drawn in by U.S. schools. Castro's final solution (in addition to the funding of the additional five border schools that he had proposed) was the "absolute suppression of all non-federal schools" to ensure that all Mexican schools were delivering high quality education that could compete with education on the U.S. side 6 of the border. !

Frontier Education in Chihuahua

From the point ofview offederal educators, by late 1929 the situation along the Chihuahuan section ofthe U.S.-Mexican border was dire. At the center ofthe problem was Ciudad Juarez. The border city was the most important link between the United States and Mexico and was the location ofMexico's most important customhouse.62 Ciudad Juarez had a darker side as well; it served as a center for smug­ gling, gambling, prostitution, and contraband.6J By 1870 the region had al­ ready been the center of a "highly organized" cattle rustling business. 64 During the Mexican Revolution, Ciudad Juarez served as a center for weap­ ons smuggling by the various military factions vying for national power. With the passage ofthe Eighteenth Amendment (Prohibition) in the United States on 29 January 1919, the city became the center ofa newly flourishing boot­ legging and contraband business. 65 By 1929 the main commerce undertaken by Ciudad Juarez's 21,000 inhabitants was distilling alcohol destined to be smuggled north across the border. The city boasted one beer factory and two whiskey distilleries. Residents also engaged in running gambling houses. While state officials gave lip service to fighting the spread of these indus­ tries, the reality was that by 1931, gambling provided the state with over 70 percent of its overall tax revenue, and taking concrete action against gam­ bling would be political suicide.66 A further problem, according to educa­ tion officials, was that between 50,000 and 55,000 of El Paso's 108,000 SPRING 2005 MARAK? 175

inhabitants were MexicanY In the eyes of SEP policymakers, this meant that 50,000 to 55,000 people were in the process oflosing their culture. The advancement of frontier schooling in Ciudad Juarez proved to be ironic in that while the federal government used education to stamp out the vices associated with the border for moral and cultural reasons, it simulta­ neously undermined those very policies by supporting the expansion ofgam­ bling and bootlegging for economic and political reasons. Chihuahua governor Rodrigo Quevedo (1932-1936) based his political power on his ruth­ lessness, his control oflarge revenue sources based on border gambling and bootlegging, and on support from Plutarco Elfas Calles.68 Calles used his close political ties with Quevedo to convince the governor to turn control of Chihuahua's state primary school system over to the federal government. In return, Calles did not interfere in Quevedo's illegal border activities. The state's education director, Salvador Varela, and one of the inspectors as­ signed to the area, Ramon Espinosa Villanueva, realized that they had no­ where to turn for help in combating contraband trade because state and local authorities were actively taking part in the illegal activities.69 The illicit activities ofsome Chihuahuans, however, benefited the fron­ tier schools. Quevedo's chief competitor in the gambling and bootlegging industry in Ciudad Juarez, Enrique Fernandez, was donating his monetary and moral support to local federal schools. Fernandez was commended on several occasions for donating land, buildings, and supplies to schools lo­ cated along the border and, in the process, secured the good graces of the local education inspector.7o Many ofthe families (the majority, according to the local inspector) that made use of the schools donated by Fernandez were probably employed in the contraband trade. Almost comically, at the same time that Fernandez was cultivating his relationship with local educa­ tors, the education inspector, J. Reyes Pimentel, was waging an anti-alcohol campaign aimed at reducing the number of people involved in running alcohol across the border. Pimentel complained to his superiors that the contraband trade made his job of improving education along the border doubly difficult. Many families involved in the business outright refused to cooperate with the. schools, and even those families that were inclined to cooperate with school authorities lived scattered about the countryside surrounding Ciudad Juarez. Living outside the city facilitated Chihuahuans slipping across the border unseen at night. 71 Pimentel's hard work paid off, and by 1935 the education 176 ~ NEW MEXICO HISTORICAL REVIEW VOLUME 80, NUMBER 2 inspector was convinced that the school's social campaigns and advance­ ment of sports, especially baseball, had undermined the propensity offron­ tier dwellers to work in the alcohol industry.72 The repeal ofUS. Prohibition in 1933 and the assassination of Fernandez (after one earlier unsuccessful attempt), however, were probably the overriding causes of the industry's diminution.73 While the SEP's response to the contraband liquor business played an important role in inhibiting the advancement offrontier schooling in Ciudad Juarez, general apathy and the enticement ofbetter schools on the US. side of the border were also problems. When the head of federal education in Chihuahua, Salvador Varela, first advanced the idea of increased funding for frontier schooling in November 1929, he was confronted with a situation in which about 25 percent (1,000 of an estimated 4,200) of the children of Ciudad Juarez were crossing the border to attend school in EI Paso, Texas. Even the children currently attending primary school in Ciudad Juarez were likely to go to EI Paso for industrial, vocational, or English classes after they had graduated. Furthermore, when school inspector Pimentel attempted to involve Mexican parents residing in EI Paso in festivities celebrating the anniver­ sary of the Mexican Revolution, they protested vociferously and refused to take part. His attempts to promote increased respect for the Mexican flag and prohibit the use of foreign (i.e., English) words met with a tepid re­ sponse. Instead, parents told him that they would consider keeping their children in Mexican scho

dren out ofthe frontier school and send them to school in EI Paso if radical .' teachers were not fired. 77 Second, by 1932 the SEP was in the midst of a court battle with the ex-convent's former owner, Senorita Mariana Ochoa, over ownership ofthe school building.78 Ochoa had designated the building as a school for the poor, but SEP officials were positive that she was actually using it as a clandestine "Catholic convent" for religious teaching. The Constitution of 1917 made religious teaching in schools illegal, and SEP officials began to earnestly enforce the anti-religious measures ofthe consti­ tution in 1926. In early 1933, the Circuit Court in Monterrey made a finding in favor of Ochoa, forcing the SEP to appeal the decision to Mexico's Su­ preme Court onthe basis that it had already spent twenty thousand pesos to improve the building. The SEP was finally given ownership of the former convent in August 1933.79 While the battle for ownership of the school raged, parents raised 5,800 pesos to buy sewing machines, a radio, a film projector, and an industrial department.8o Despite the apparent support for the school, parents com­ plained that the school itself was located in Ciudad Juarez's tolerance zone, near the international bridge leading to EI Paso. They argued that their children were going to school in the same neighborhood where local au­ thorities promoted prostitution and sadistic public acts-prostitutes per­ formed sex acts with burros and had anal sex in public-in order to attract U.S. tourists.8l The third problem encountered by the Ciudad Juarez school was par­ ents' complaints that many of the teachers lacked a proper education and spent their spare time getting drunk in local cantinas. Once again, parents insisted that if the SEP did not promptly address these issues, they would pull their children from the frontier school and send them to EI Paso. The SEP responded with an investigation that turned up no concrete faults on the part of the teachers assigned to the school. 82 A final issue plaguing the frontier school was that of sex education. In early 1934, a number ofparents disturbed by the idea ofsex education being advanced by the SEP in Ciudad Juarez voiced their concern. To overcome the parental objections, SEP officials distributed copies of the textbooks being used. They focused particular attention on the various feminine leagues that had organized against sex education near the border.83 A number of teachers assigned to the frontier school refused to sign a written statement that acknowledged their support of socialist education. Ramon Espinosa Villanueva thought that it was due to the influence of the high number of 178 ~ NEW MEXICO HISTORICAL REVIEW VOLUME SO, NUMBER 2

Catholic priests who had crossed the border into El Paso to establish private religious schools. These same priests, he believed, were behind the demon­ strations against sexual (or as the priests called it, "sensual") education. Thus, he asked each ofthe teachers who had refused to support socialist schooling to renounce their religious beliefs. The teachers refused. The school in­ spector then initiated a petition campaign with the support of La Unidad Magisterial (The Magisterial Unity), the Bloque Radical de Maestros Socialistas de Ciudad Juarez (The Radical Block of Socialist Teachers of Ciudad Juarez), and the Federaci6n de Sociedades de Padres de Family (The Federation of Parent Societies) to push for the dismissal of the teachers. 84 In 1935 Espinosa Villanueva asked the SEP for the necessary funding to establish two additional schools in Ciudad Juarez so that Mexican youth would no longer cross the border and be inculcated with "sentiments con­ trary to the interests of Mexico."85 A previous trip to El Paso by SEP officials had revealed that the special U.S. school established to assimilate Mexican children into American culture stressed that the United States was the greatest country in the world and had the most powerful Navy. The SEP officials noted that the Mexican children attending the school-z,oz4 in total, one­ third of whom were from Ciudad Juarez-were losing their Spanish lan­ guage skills by speaking and writing mostly English.86 By 1935 SEP officials were beginning to realize that the frontier schools were not doing the job that they had been created to do. In May Celso Flores Zamora, the head of the Department of Rural Schools, argued that "the rural frontier and primary schools that are presently functioning, until now have not formed the barrier that could impede the passage ofour chil­ dren to the neighboring country in which they look for a betterment that in their own country they can not find."87 Espinosa Villanueva believed that the solution lay in hiring only male teachers and increasing funding to fron­ tier schools.88 Another inspector, Jesus Coello, thought that a pro-Spanish campaign where locals were encouraged to take part in festivals and sing songs about the evils of capitalism and religion was the answer.89 But the problem was much deeper than that. The struggle between religious and socialist teachers was a factor that constantly undermined the delivery of education within the frontier school. Numerous unions called for the forced expulsion of all teachers who refused to denounce their religious views; some teachers feared persecution if they did not join their local socialist teacher's union. 9lI While SEP officials attributed the struggle between reli­ gious and socialist education to the proximity of the border, the truth was SPRING 2005 MARAK + 179 that the border gave religious parents the opportunity to send their children to El Paso to receive a private religious education that was much more to their liking. . Perhaps even more damaging to the frontier schools in Chihuahua than the schism between religious and socialist teachers was the discovery that Ramon Espinosa Villanueva and the director ofthe frontier school in Ciudad Juarez, Jose Medrano, had been regularly sending false and misleading re­ ports to the SEP. The SEP dispatched its inspector general, Alfonso G. Alanis, to address parental complaints and found that Medrano attended school irregularly, made personal use of school supplies and resources, hired and fired teachers based on his personal whims (even though the majority of them were unionized), was a local politician of Communist affiliation, and did not offer night classes as legally required. 91 Despite such misconduct, Espinosa Villanueva kept his job. He hoped to reverse the practice ofhiring only teachers from Mexico's interior, a prac­ tice established by his predecessor, Salvador Varela. Espinosa Villanueva argued that teachers who were not from the border region could not adapt to frontier life and, thus, should not be hired. Neatly ignoring the major conflicts created by the advancement of the SEP's socialist and anti­ religious pedagogy, he proposed to eliminate fighting among teachers by advocating equal pay for all teachers.92 Finally, he encouraged improving Ciudad Juarez's secondary school so that Mexicans would not be forced to send their children to "gringo universities" where they only learned to think about "the land of[George] Washington."93 In 1936 the SEP showed contin­ ued support of frontier schooling by opening a second frontier school in Ciudad Juarez and another in Ojinaga.

Frontier Schooling in Sonora

Frontier schooling was much less contentious and confrontational in Sonora than in either Coahuila or Chihuahua. Nogales, the site ofSonora's frontier school located across the border from its sister city of the same name in Arizona, had originally been a small outpost established by railroad work­ ers. 94 The economic growth of Ambos Nogales (both Nogales) evolved in such a manner that the two cities were actually one economically interde­ pendent town "separated ·only by a street."95 Relations between Mexicans and Americans were enhanced by the fact that many U.S. residents in Nogales learned Spanish while their Mexican counterparts learned English 180 + NEW MEXICO HISTORICAL REVIEW VOLUME 80, NUMBER 2 to enhance their business prospects. By the time of the Mexican Revolu­ tion, the inhabitants of Sonora were known as the "Yankees of Mexico" because of their close ties to the United States. 96 In 1928 a primary school for 200 children was set up in Nogales, Mexico, in a vacant building donated (along with 108 double-sided desks) to the SEP by state authorities.97 The school was located on Avenida Alvaro Obregon and was housed in a five-story building that was, according to the school's director, Rosalfo E. Moreno, poorly ventilated and poorly lit. 98 In addition to the regular curriculum, school officials focused on teaching the children how to safely cross the city's busy streets. 99 The school's success was ham­ pered, however, by poor attendance as a result of parents' decisions to pull their children from school on both Mexican and U.S. holidays. Throughout 1929 Moreno concerned himself with the welfare of the children in the school, trying to convince the families of older children to leave their children in school rather than send them across the border in search ofwork. 100 In February ofthat year, a child came down with meningi­ tis and the school was subsequently closed. Those who had come into con­ tact with the child were isolated. 101 Illness was not the school's only problem. The Depression forced the federal government to pay teachers only half of their regular salary. In March three border school teachers with newly re­ duced salaries crossed the border to look for work in Arizona. lOz The school's director told federal officials that the newly reduced salaries were not "suffi­ cient for [life's] most necessary expenses. I believe that we will not continue working much longer."I03 He then quit. The school's new director for the 1929-1930 school year, Alfonso Acosta v., was entrusted with the job of transforming the school from a regular primary into a frontier primary school. He held a meeting in May 1930 with local parents to figure out how they could compete with the "Yankee schools" in Arizona and how best to reach all of the Mexican children who were presently attending school there. Acosta V. figured that 75 percent ofall the children in the Nogales, Arizona, school district were Mexican citizens. 104 There is little indication, however, that the change from a regular primary school to a frontier school was anything other than nominal. The 1931-1932 school year brought with it another new director, Agapito Constantino, who implemented policies that likely pushed additional Mexi­ can parents to send their children to school in Arizona. For example, Constantino believed that it was necessary to shame the students who at­ tended his school into changing their behavior. He did so by scheduling a SPRING 2005 MARAK? 181 public assembly at the beginning of every school day in which children were divided into different groups and forced to stand underneath banners lO corresponding to their perceived level of punctuality and c1eanliness. ; Another issue that forced Mexican families to send their children to the United States for schooling was the deplorable condition of Nogales's only secondary school. In 1932 the secondary school shared a building with a local primary school. The twenty-six primary school students who gradu­ ated in 1931, many ofwhom would immediately enter the job market, were so few in number that attracting enough students to keep the secondary school functioning properly was nearly impossible.106 Nonetheless, the sec­ ondary school was moved to a new location near the frontier primary school on Avenida Alvaro Obregon and placed under the authority of a new direc­ tor, Angel Alfonso Andrade, who, according to SEP officials, "rescued the school from the toilet."I07 By 1933 the secondary school was deemed to be functioning perfectly, and by 1934 school officials noted that it was being actively supported by influential members of Ambos Nogales. lOs The truth is that frontier schooling was not a high priority for Sonoran officials. First, parents in Ambos Nogales seemed inclined to continue sup­ porting the practice ofsending the majority ofMexican children across the border to Arizona for their primary and secondary schooling. Second, Plutarco Elias Calles's son and the state's governor, ~odolfo Elias Calles (1931-1934) thought that rather than expanding the school system along the border, the best way to improve the situation of Mexicans repatriated dur­ ing the Depression was to place them in colonies. The colonies were set up by the state on former lands of the Mayo and Yaqui Indians in southern Sonora. I09 Third, and most importantly, Calles's main preoccupation in the educational field was his role in implementing the government's widespread defanaticization campaign, which began in 1931 and was aimed at remov­ ing, once and for all, the influence of the church in Sonora,u°

Conclusion

Plutarco Elias Calles and his education ministers wanted somehow to en­ courage U.S. economic involvement in the U.S.-Mexico border region while at the same time discouraging Mexican citizens from cultural and social involvement in the burgeoning economy. Frontier schools were the means by which they hoped to stem U.S. cultural imperialism. They failed to do so. Mismanagement, better course offerings, better opportunities to learn 182 -+ NEW MEXICO HISTORICAL REVIEW VOLUME 80, NUMBER 2

English, better facilities on the U.S. side of the border, and access to reli­ gious education in the United States each played a role in the failure ofthe Mexican frontier schools. This article has provided a preliminary institutional history of Mexican frontier schools, highlighting the ways in which different local, political, and social environments led to very different conceptions of the roles of frontier schools. Despite a long history of hostility between Coahuila and Chihuahua and Texas, SEP officials were unable to stem the flow of Mexi­ can children to primary schools in the United States. The frontier schools in both Mexican states were plagued by mismanagement, political struggles between different factions of teachers, and the drive to eliminate religious teaching from federal schools. Nonetheless, inspectors soon realized that they could increase enrollment by providing English and vocational classes and by lessening the emphasis on festivals, parades, and concerts meant to develop a sense of patriotism. In Sonora, where there was a spirit of coop­ eration between leading members ofAmbos Nogales, federal education of­ ficials never officially advocated the creation of a frontier school and local officials (who decided to push the issue anyway) actually worked to gain the support of community members on both sides of the border. Thus, they never tried to stem the flow ofMexican children to U.S. schools. In order to gain a better understanding ofthe effects that frontier schools had on Mexi­ can citizens living near the border in Coahuila, Chihuahua, and Sonora, future historians will need to move beyond broad comparisons at the state level and delve into the microhistories ofeach of the locations where fron­ tier schools were founded.

Notes

I. Although 500,000 people of Mexican descent, both U.S. citizens and non-U.S. citizens, would eventually be forced across the border into Mexico, most of the early refugees to return to Mexico did so because they lost their jobs. After the initial wave of returnees slowed to a trickle, a "decentralized but vigorous cam­ paign" forced the rest across the border (almost none were legally deported). Changes in U.S. visa policy meant that almost none of them would be able to legally return to the United States after the end of the Great Depression. See Josiah McC. Heyman, Life and Labor on the Border: Working People of Northeastern Sonora, Mexico, 1886-1986 (Tucson: University ofArizona Press, 1991), 33-35. 2. When discussing frontier I mean that which "describes both a zone and a process, an interaction between two or more different cultures." See Sarah Deutsch, No SPRING 2005

Separate Refuge: Culture, Class, and Gender on. an Anglo-Hispanic Frontier in the American Southwest, 1880-1940 (New York: Oxford University Press, 1987),10. 3. For example, William Walker and a number of filibusters invaded Baja California in 1853 and declared it an independent country before being overwhelmed by Mexican forces and surrendering. In 1857 Henry Crabb and one hundred men attacked Sonora in hopes that the state would later be annexed by U. S. officials as was Texas. Other lesser-known, and less successful, filibusters continued through­ out the Porfiriato (1876-19II). See Oscar J. Martinez, Troublesome Border (Tucson: University of Arizona Press, 1988), 38-47. 4. Alan Knight, Counter-Revolution and Reconstruction, vol. 2 of The Mexican Revo­ lution (Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press, 1990), 139· 5. For an in-depth account of both U.S. and Mexican responses to the invasion, see Knight, Counter-Revolution and Reconstruction, 155-62. 6. U.S. Congress, Senate, Committee on Foreign Relations, Investigation ofMexican Affairs, 66th Cong., 2d sess. (Washington, D.C.: GPO, 1920), 3327-81. 7. Miguel Tinker Salas, In the Shadow ofthe Eagles: Sonora and the Transfonnation of the Border during the Porfiriato (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1997), 173. 8. Alan Knight, "The United States and the Mexican Peasantry, circa 1880-1940," in Rural Revolt in Mexico: U.S. Intervention and the Domain of Subaltern Politics, ed. Daniel Nugent (Durham, N.C.: Duke University Press, 1998),4°. 9. Cited in Engracia Loyo, Gobiernos revolucionarios y educaci6n popular en Mexico (Mexico: Centro de Estudios Historicos, 1998),217' 10. Boletfn de la Secretaria de Educaci6n Publica [hereafter BSEPj (Talleres Graficos de la Nacion) 8, no. 8 (1929): 63. II. BSEP 8, nos. 9-II (1929): 49-50. 12. BSEP 9, no. 6 (1930): 9· 13· BSEP 9, nos. 1-3 (1930): 21-22. 14· BSEP 9, nos. 9-10 (1930): 37-38. 15. Ibid. 16. Ramon Mendez, Jefe del Departmento, to Rafael Ramirez, Coahuila, 7 January 1930, box 32, expo IV!I61 (IV-12)!I32, Archivo Historico de la Secretaria de Educacion Publica [hereafter AHSEPJ, Mexico City. 17. Ramon Mendez, Jefe del Departmento, to Rafael Ramirez, Coahuila, 13 January 1930, box 32, expo IVh61 (IV-12)!IV, AHSEP. 18. Ramon Mendez, Jefe del Departmento, to Rafael Ramirez, Coahuila, 10 February 1930, box 32, expo IV!I61 (IV-12)/132, AHSEP. 19. Informe Mensual, May, Rafael Castro, Coahuila, box 20, expo IV!I61 (IV-12)!I34, AHSEP. 20. When Nazario S. Ortiz finished his term in office as governor in 1934, he went into business selling foodstuffs to the federal government. See Ortiz Garza, Nazario S., leg. 3/3, expo 32, inv. {220, Archivo Fideicomiso Plutarco Elias Calles y Fernando Torreblanca [hereafter AFPEC y FT], Mexico City. 21. Rafael Ramirez to Jefe del Departmento, Coahuila, box 32, expo IV!I61 (IV-12)h32, AHSEP. 184 ~ NEW MEXICO HISTORICAL REVIEW VOLUME 80, NUMBER 2

22. Informe Mensual, May, Rafael Castro, Coahuila, box 20, expo IVh61 (IV-12)h34, AHSEP. 23· Informe Mensual, May, Ramon Mendez, Coahuila, box 6°37, expo IV/100, AHSEP. 24· Informe Mensual, June, Inocente M. Hernandez, Coahuila, box 6°37, expo IV/ 100, AHSEP. 25. Inspection Report, Rafael Castro, Coahuila, 24 May 1930, box 20, expo IVh61 (IV­ 12)h34' AHSEP. 26. Inspection Report, Rafael Castro, Coahuila, 5 December 1930, box 52, expo IVh61 (IV-14)/714, AHSEP. 27· Inspection Report, Rafael Castro, Coahuila, 24 March 1931, box 31, expo IVh61 (IV­ 14)/511, AHSEP. 28. According to education officials, colonists were those settlers who already had the necessary capital to settle without the support of the government, while ejidatarios were those settlers who lacked the necessary resources. See Informe Mensual, December, Rafael Castro, Coahuila, box 6°39, expo IV/10o, AHSEP. On the re­ neging on provisional land grants in the interests of greater economic output in post-revolutionary Mexico, see Linda B. Hall, "Alvaro Obregon and the Politics of Mexican Land Reform, 1920-1924," Hispanic American Historic Review 60 (May 198o): 213-38. 29· Inspection Report, Rafael Castro, Coahuila, 21 May 1931, box 31, expo IVh61 (IV­ 14)/602; and Inspection Report, Rafael Castro, Coahuila, 8 January 1931, box 51, expo IVh61 (IV-14)/606, AHSEP. 30. Informe, Jefe del Departmento, Coahuila, 4 November 1932, box 31, expo IVh61 (IV-14)/563, AHSEP. 31· Various reports, Coahuila, 13 November 1931 and 25 November 1932, box 55, expo IVh61 (IV-14)/632, AHSEP. 32- Informe Mensual, October, Rafael Castro, Coahuila, box 6°39, expo IV/10o, AHSEP. 33· Inspection Report, Rafael Castro, Coahuila, 20 June 1933, box 51, expo IVh61 (IV­ 14)/697, AHSEP 34· Inspection Report, J. Alcazar Robledo, Coahuila, 26 September 1931, box 51, expo IVh61 (IV-14)/606, AHSEP. 35. Informe Mensual, January, Rafael Castro, Coahuila, box 24, expo IVh61 (IV-14)/ 762, AHSEP. 36. Ortiz Garza, Nazario S., leg. 2/3, fojas 93-94 and 100-101, inv. 4220, expo 32, AFPEC YFT. 37. Informe Bimestral, March and May, Rafael Castro, Coahuila, box 24, expo IVh61 (IV-14)/762, AHSEP. 38. Informe Mensual, January, Rafael Castro, Coahuila, box 6°39, expo IVhoo, AHSEP. 39. Inspection Report, Rafael Castro, Coahuila, 25 November 1932, box 52, expo IVh61 (IV-14)/701, AHSEP. 40. Informe Mensual, December, Abraham Arellano, Coahuila, box 6039, expo IV/ 100, AHSEP. 41. Maurilio P. Nanez, Director of Federal Education, to SEP, Coahuila, 16 February 1933, box 32, expo IVh61 (IV-12)h32, AHSEP. SPRING 2005 MARAK? 185

42. Eliseo Ruiz Vadillo to the President of XETN, Coahuila, 6 March 1933, box 32, expo IVh61 (IV-12)!l32, AHSEP. 43. Maurilio P. Nanez to Rafael Castro, Coahuila, 17 April 1933> box 32, expo IV!l61 (IV-12)h32, AHSEP. 44. Fabian Garcia R. to Maurilio P. Nanez, Coahuila, 20 April 1933, box 32, expo IV/ 161 (IV-12)h32, AHSEP. 45. Informe Mensual, April, Fabian Garcia R., Coahuila, box 32, expo IVh61 (IV-12)/ 132, AHSEP. 46. Gobernador Constitucional del Estado to Narciso Bassols, 29 January 1933, box 37, expo IVh61 (IV-12)h40, AHSEP. SEP had considered but been unable to open a frontier school in Villa Acuna in 1930. See Informe Mensual, May, Rafael Castro, Coahuila, box 20, expo IVh61 (IV-12)h34, AHSEP. 47. Maurilio P. Nanez to SEP, Coahuila, 1 February 1933, box 37, expo IVh61 (IV-12)/ 140, AHSEP. 48. Informe Mensual, May, Rafael Castro, Coahuila, box 52, expo IVh61 (IV-14)/727, AHSEP. 49. Informe Mensual, January, Rafael Castro, Coahuila, box 6°39, expo lV/lOO, AHSEP. 50. Ibid. 51. Informe Bimestral, November and December, Coahuila, box 37, expo IVh61 (IV­ 12)h40, AHSEP. 52. Informe Anual, 1934-1935, Micaela Zuniga R., Coahuila, box 37, expo IVh61 (IV­ 12)h40' AHSEP. 53. Inform~ Mensual, February, Rafael Castro, Coahuila, box 52, expo IVh61 (IV-14)/ 727, AHSEP. 54. Informe Mensual, March, Rafael Castro, Coahuila, box 52, expo IVh61 (IV-14)/ 727, AHSEP. 55. Informe Mensual, April, Rafael Castro, Coahuila, box 52, expo IVh61 (IV-4)/727, AHSEP. 56. Ibid. 57. Informe Mensual, January, Rafael Castro, Coahuila, box 6°39, exp.IV/lOo, AHSEP. 58. Informe, Rafael Castro, Coahuila, 18 November 1934, box 6°39, expo IVhoo, AHSEP. 59. Informe Bimestral, January and February, Rafael Castro, Coahuila, box 6°39, expo IVhoo, AHSEP. 60. Rafael Castro to Maurilio P. Nanez, Coahuila, 24 June 1935, box 6°34, expo 1, AHSEP. 61. Ibid. 62. Lawrence D. Taylor, "The Battle of Ciudad Juarez: Death Knell of the Porfirian Regime in Mexico," New Mexico Historical Review 74 (April 1999): 181. 63. "Protestan los Padres de Familia de C. Juarez," EI Mexicano del Norte, p. 4, Chi­ huahua, box 936, expo IV [082], AHSEP. 64. Linda B. Hall and Don M. Coerver, Revolution on the Border: The United States

and Mexico, 1910-1920 (Albuquerque: University of New Mexico Press, 1988), 8. 186 + NEW MEXICO HISTORICAL REVIEW VOLUME 80, NUMBER 2

65· Daniel Boorstin, The Americans: The Democratic Experience (New York: Vintage Books, 1973), 81; and Martinez, Troublesome Border, 114. 66. Salvador Varela, Jefe del Educacion Federal, to Rafael Ramirez, Jefe del Depart­ mento de Escuelas Rurales, Chihuahua, 26 November 1929, box 57, expo IVh61 (IV­ 12)/z21, AHSEP; and Mark Wasserman, Persistent Oligarchs: Elites and Politics in

Chihuahua, Mexico, 191Q-,1940 (Durham, N.C.: Duke University Press, 1993), 57. 67. Informe General del Instituto Extraordinario de Ciudad Juarez, Alfredo G. Basurto, Chihuahua, 4 August 1934, box 1079, expo IV/z03-7, AHSEP. 68. Wasserman, Persistent Oligarchs, 56-60. 69· Informe, Salvador Varela, Chihuahua, 29 November 1929, box 1653, expo IV/ooo (II-5)(721.5); and Informe Mensual, March, Ramon Espinosa Villanueva, Chihua­ hua, box 860, expo IV/100 (04)(lV-4)(721.4), AHSEP. 70. Various letters and inspection reports, J. Reyes Pimentel, Chihuahua, 4 April 1930, 26 February 1930, 15 March 1930, and 23 July 1930, box 19, expo IVh61 (IV-14)/z576, AHSEP. 71. Various inspection reports, J. Reyes Pimentel, Chihuahua, 4 April 1930, 26 Febru­ ary 193°,15 March 1930, and 23 July 1930, box 19, expo IVh61 (IV-14)/z576, AHSEP. 72. Inspection Report, Ramon Espinosa Villanueva, Chihuahua, 19 May 1931 and 30 April 1932, box 19, expo IVh61 (lV-14)/z576, AHSEP. 73· Wasserman, Persistent Oligarchs, 58. 74· Informe Mensual, October, J. Reyes Pimentel, Chihuahua, box 1213, expo IV/100 (lV-4)(721.4), AHSEP. 75· Salvador Varela to Rafael Ramirez, Chihuahua, 26 November 1929, box 57, expo IVh61 (IV-12)/221, AHSEP. 76. Informe, Salvador Varela, Chihuahua, 22 November 1929, box 1653, expo IV/ooo (II-5)(721.5), AHSEP. 77· Various parents to Rafael Ramirez, Chihuahua, 24 January 1930, box 57, expo IV/ 161 (lV-12)/z15, AHSEP. 78. Rafael Ramirez to Jefe del Departmento de Administrativo Edificio, Chihuahua, 19 January 1932, box 57, expo IVh61 (IV-12)/z15, AHSEP. 79· Ramon Espinosa Villanueva to the SEP, Chihuahua, 22 August 1933, box 57, expo IVh61 (lV-12)/z15, AHSEP. 80. Various inspection reports, Ramon Espinosa Villanueva, Chihuahua, 26 January 1932, 14 November 1932, 16 January 1933, 20 June 1933, and 17 April 1934, box 57, expo IVh61 (IV-12)/z15, AHSEP. The radio proved to be less than useful for educa­ tional purposes as the SEP's radio signal was overpowered by U.S. signals from across the border, see Eduardo Zarza to Rafael Ramirez, Chihuahua, box 1079, expo IV/354.2, AHSEP. 81. Daniel M. Perea, President of the Confederation of Parents and Teachers, to the SEP, Chihuahua, 28 June 1933, box 936, expo IV (082) 1561/7, AHSEP. 82. Parents of Ciudad Juarez to Rafael Ramirez, Chihuahua, 24 August 1933, box 936, expo IV (082) 1561/7, AHSEP. 83· Ramon Espinosa Villanueva to D. Eduardo Azarza, Chihuahua, 8 February 1934, box 1057, expo IV/100, AHSEP. SPRING 2005

84. Informe Bimestral, November and December, Professor D. Pedro Moreno, Chi­ huahua, box 1057, expo IVhoo; and Informe General del Instituto Extraordinario de Ciudad Juarez, Alfredo G. Basurto, Chihuahua, 4 August 1934, box 1079, expo IVhon, AHSEP. 85· Ramon Espinosa Villanueva to the SEP, Chihuahua, 9 January 1935, box 5736, expo 328/11, AHSEP. 86. Informe de la Visita Practicada a la "AOY School" de EI Paso, Texas, Alfredo G. Basurto, Chihuahua, 5 June 1934, box 1079, expo IVh03·7, AHSEP. 87. Celso Flores Zamora to the Director de Educacion Federal, Chihuahua, 16 May 1935, box 1360, expo IVh61 (IV-2)(72l.4), AHSEP. 88. Ramon Espinosa Villanueva to the Director de Educacion Federal, Chihuahua, 27 July 1935, box 1360, expo IVh61 (IV-2)(721.4), AHSEP. 89. Jeslls Coello to the Departmento de Escuelas Rurales, Chihuahua, 31 October 1935, box 1333, expo IVhoo (04)(IV-4)(721.4), AHSEP. 90. Sindical de Obreros Industriales de C. Juarez to SEP, Chihuahua, 14 February 1935, box 5736, expo 328/11; Gran Liga Textil Socialista to SEP, Chihuahua, 19 February 1935, box 5736, expo 328/11; Bloque de Estudiantes Socialistre, Escuela de Agricultura, C. Juarez to Licenciado Ignacio Garda Tellez, Chihuahua, 12 April 1935, box 867, expo IVh61 (IV-4)(72l.4); and Informe Bimestral, November and December, Ramon Espinosa Villanueva, Chihuahua, box 867, expo IVhoo (04)(IV­ 4)(721.4), AHSEP. 91. Sintesis de Carta de Inspector Alfonso G. Alanis, Chihuahua, 11 September 1935, box 6041, expo IVh66 (IV-6)(721.3), AHSEP. 92. Informe Bimestral, January and February, .Ramon Espinosa Villanueva, Chihua­ hua, box 867, expo IVhoo (04) (IV-4) (721-4) , AHSEP. 93. Ramon Espinosa Villanueva to Jacinto Maldonado, Chihuahua, 20 July 1935, box 867, expo IVhoo (04)(IV-4)(72l.4), AHSEP. 94. Tinker Salas, In the Shadow ofthe Eagles, 152. 95. Hall and Coerver, Revolution on the Border, 31-32; and Tinker Salas, In the Shadow ofthe Eagles, 6. 96. Tinker Salas, In the Shadow ofthe Eagles, 6, 202-3. 97. F.F. Dworak to the Jefe del Departmento de Escuelas Rurales, Sonora, box 8420, expo 12, AHSEP. 98. lnforme Mensual, September, Rosalio E. Moreno, Sonora, box 8420, expo 12, AHSEP. 99. lnforme Mensual, October, Rosalfo E. Moreno, Sonora, box 8420, expo 12, AHSEP. 100. lnforme Mensual, January, Rosalfo E. Moreno, Sonora, box 8420, expo 12, AHSEP. 101. Informe Mensual, February, Rosalio E. Moreno, Sonora, box 8420, expo 12, AHSEP. 102. Informe Mensual, March, F. F. Dworak, Sonora, box 8420, expo 12, AHSEP. 103. Informe Mensual, March, Rosalfo E. Moreno, Sonora, box 8420, expo 12, AHSEP. 10+ Informe Mensual, May, Alfonso Acosta v., Sonora, box 8420, expo 12, AHSEP. 105. Informe Mensual, October, Agapito Constantino, Sonora, box 8420, exp.12, AHSEP. 106. Memorandum, Ramon G. Bonfil, Sonora, box 8446, expo 20, AHSEP. 107. Informe Anual, Elpidio Lopez, Sonora, box 8446, expo 20, AHSEP. 188 -+ NEW MEXICO HISTORICAL REVIEW VOLUME 80, NUMBER 2

108. Informe Mensual, Elpidio Lopez, Sonora, box 8446, expo 21; and Informe Anual, 1933-1934, Elpidio Lopez, Sonora, box 8420, expo 12, AHSEP. 109. Elfas Calles Chacon, Rodolfo, leg. 13/24, fojas 663-706, iny. 1733, expo 4; and Espinosa, Juyentino (GraL), leg. 1, fojas 4-7, iny. 1898, expo 67, AFPEC Y FT. no. Adrian A. Bantjes, As ifJesus Walked on Earth: Cardenismo, Sonora, and the Mexi­ can Revolution (Wilmington, Del.: Scholarly Resources, 1998), 10--15. From Clerk to Professional NEW MEXICO'S SUPERINTENDENCY AND THE SUPERINTENDENTS OF PUBLIC INSTRUCTION, 1891-1916

A. Kenneth Stem and Dan D. Chavez

he Compromise of 1850 officially established the Territory of New TMexico on 9 September 1850, with an effective date of 3 March 185l. Even though section fifteen of the Compromise stipulated that sections . sixteen and thirty-two of each township would be "reserved for the pur­ pose of being applied to schools in said territory," the agreement did not mandate the immediate implementation ofa territory-wide public school system. The people of New Mexico Territory waited forty years until 12 February 1891 to form a school system headed by a superintendent ofpub­ lic instruction.! Between 1891 and 1916, seven men served as superintendent of public instruction. A close examination ofthe superintendency and the six territo­ rial superintendents and one state superintendent who worked during this

A. Kenneth Stern is Associate Professor ofEducational Administration and Program Director ofEducational Leadership Studies at Oklahoma State University. His research focuses on the superintendentofpublic instruction positions during the territorial eras in Kansas, New Mexico, and Oklahoma. He is currently working on a book about the superintendent position in Okla­ homa from 1890 to the present. Dan D. Chavez is Professor Emeritus ofEducational Founda­ tions at the University ofNew·Mexico. He served as teacher and principal in the Albuquerque and Bernalillo Public School systems before beginning his 22-year-long career as professor at UNM. Since retiring in 1990, Dr. Chavez has conducted research into New Mexico's politi- cal history. His research publications include Soledad Chavez Chac6n: A New Mexico Politi- 189 cal Power, 1890-1936 and New Mexico Women Legislators: 1923-1999. 190 -t NEW MEXICO HISTORICAL REVIEW VOLUME 80, NUMBER 2 formative period reveals both the development ofthe post and New Mexico's transition from a territory to a state. Reflecting nationwide trends in educa­ tion, the office of superintendent of public instruction gradually evolved from a political-patronage reward to a professional administrative office.

National Educational Context

The middle of the nineteenth century marked the beginning of the cre­ ation and development ofpublic schools in the United States. Initial efforts took root in the northeastern region of the country, and soon after, a few reformers, most notably Horace Mann and Henry Barnard, traveled across the Midwest to promote tax-supported public education. These predomi­ nantly White Protestants approached their cause with a missionary zeal. Children should be educated through funding generated by taxes levied against the public. Education should be nonsectarian in purpose but not necessarily devoid of any religious influence. Although reformers prohib­ ited outright proselytizing, Protestant tenets permeated the curriculum and textbooks, and they advocated the Bible as a resource.z Convincing an essentially rural populace of the advantages of tax­ supported public schools posed a significant challenge. Americans did not universally consider education a priority. Although many northerners supported public education by the 1850s, many southerners did not and associated public schools with northern capitalism and abolitionism. Non-Protestants, particu­ larly Catholics, feared the Protestant influence visible in the schools. 3 National and local interests often disagreed over how schools should be organized and governed. Rural folks who recognized the advantages ofan education desired local control and opposed state-level governance. In con­ trast, reformers pushed for territorial- or state-level governance to coordi­ nate and supervise the selection of textbooks and the preparation and selection of quality teachers. In that scheme as an advocate for public edu­ cation, the superintendent would report the needs of the schools to the legislature. Across the country, several governance models emerged to pit a form of democratic localism against a potential centralized bureaucracy that requested data and issued mandates.4 New Mexico chose a model shared by all states (except Idaho) admitted to the Union after 1876 by establishing the top-level position ofsuperintendent ofpublic instruction. Similarly, New Mexico, like those states, selected the superintendent through the elective process.s SPRING 2005 STERN AND CHAVEZ ~ 191

The creation and implementation ofan education chiefvaried accord­ ing to the development, demographics, religious diversity, and geography ofany given state. Although the U.S. Constitution does not mention educa­ tion, much less prescribe a national system of education, the states devel­ oped very similar systems. New Mexico established public education and, in particular, created the office of the territorial superintendent of public instruction in a geographically large western state devoid of many natural resources and with a sparse population, many ofwhom spoke only S'panish. In addition, Catholicism was the state's predominant religion, making New Mexico unique among the western territories and states.6

The Growth of Public School Enrollment in New Mexico

Rapid demographic changes occurred in New Mexico from 1890 to 1910 (see Table 1).7 The state's population more than doubled; the school-age population (ages 6-20) doubled as well. Meanwhile, the number of chil­ dren attending school more than tripled from 20,713 to 64,343. Forty-three percent of eligible students attended in 1890 and 61 percent in 1910. The length of the school year varied from three months in many rural areas to nine months in cities and towns. Not all children enrolled in school attended public schools (see Table 2). In 1891,22.4 percent attended nonpublic (parochial and private) schools; by 1911-1912, however, the percentage dropped to 6.5. Nonpublic school enrollmentdropped from 6,510 to 4,295 while public school enrollment nearly tripled. Further analysis ofnonpublic school enrollment figures shows that Catholic enrollment in terms of numbers of students remained fairly stable throughout the twenty-year period. The nearly 35 percent drop in overall nonpublic enrollment resulted from a sharp decrease in private and Protestant school enrollment, which dropped by 60 percent.

Table 1 New Mexico Population and School Attendance, 1890-1910 Number Increase over School Preceding Percent Age Number Percent Census Census Census Increase Persons Attending Attending Year Population Number Percent for US (6-20) School School

1910 327,3°1 131,991 67.6 21.0 105,4°3 64,343 61.0 19°0 195,310 35,028 21.9 20·7 69,712 28,336 40.6 1890 160,282 4°,717 34-1 25·5 48,°55 20,713 43-1 192 ~ NEW MEXICO HISTORICAL REVIEW VOLUME 80, NUMBER 2

Table 2 School Age Enrollments in Public and Parochial Schools, 1891 to 1911-12 Year Type of School 1891 19°3* 1911- 12* Public 22,599 37,972 61,027 Catholic 2,547 2,°47 2,635 Other Private and Church Related 3,963 2,781 1,660 Total Nonpublic Enrollment 6,510 4,828 4,295 Total Enrollment 29, 109 42,800 65,322 Catholic Enrollment as Percent of 8·7 4-78 4·°3 Total Enrollment Nonpublic Enrollment as Percent of 22·4 11.28 6·57 Total Enrollment *Excludes enrollment in Indian Schools

Within this context, New Mexico, like the other states and territories, chose to have a superintendent of public instruction, a development that raises numerous questions for the history of New Mexico education: What were the qualifications for and the responsibilities ofthe position? Was the position in New Mexico similar to that in other territories and states? Was the office suited for the development of a school system in a large rural territory or state? What was the educational background and experience of the men who served in the position? What reforms did they propose, and did their recommendations to the legislature result in new laws? What char­ acteristics of the territorial superintendency were carried over to the state superintendency when it was created in 19u? While attempting to answer these and other questions this article will examine in detail the various du­ ties of the New Mexico superintendent's position, the legislative activity affecting the position, and biographies of the seven superintendents who served between 1891-1916.

Duties and Legislative Oversight of the Superintendent Position

The nationwide trend in the mid-18oos to establish public schools and a school governance system reached into New Mexico Territory. In 1863, dur­ ing the Civil War, the legislative assembly (hereafter referred to as assem­ bly) passed a law to create the office ofTerritorial Superintendent ofPublic Instruction and a Territorial Board of Education. The superintendent was SPRING 2005 STERN AND CHAVE:Z? 193

appointed by the governor for a two-year term, and served under the direc­ tion of the Territorial Board of Education (comprising the governor, secre­ tary, Supreme Court justices, and the Catholic bishop of New Mexico Territory). The superintendent was assigned essentially clerical duties: to visit schools in each county once a year, provide an annual report to the board regarding the status of the schools, disburse available funds, and as­ sume any additional tasks assigned by the board.s A quick review and analysis ofthe legislation reveals the apparent intent ofthe assembly. New Mexico chose to establish a public school system with a superintendent whose duties were similar to those of superintendents in other states and territories, but the composition ofthe governing board was unique. The board included the Catholic bishop, a concession to the Catho­ lic Church, which was the dominant faith and maintained the only educa­ tional system in the territory. The 1863 law decreed that all funds for school purposes received from the federal government and territorial appropria­ tions should go exclusively t~ education. Since New Mexico received no money from either source, the territorial government appointed no super­ intendent, and the board never met.9 In 1862, the U.S. Congress set land aside forpubJic education across the country through the MorriJJ Act but placed low priority on funding. Federal money appropriated for territories paid the salaries of the governors, secre­ taries, and judges, and other related administrative costs. During the thirty years following 1861, for example, New Mexico and other territories received on average $25,000 to h5,000 annually from the federal government. The amount varied "principally with the rates ofsalaries and item allowances as fixed in appropriations bills which were always subject to change regardless of the rates mentioned in the organic acts."IO New Mexico Territory was generally dependent on federal money for its government operations and infrastructure. In addition to providing funds for the salaries ofterritorial government officials, the U.S. Congr'ess periodi­ cally appropriated funds for special-purpose buildings, namely, capitols and penitentiaries. Receiving no federal assistance costs, New Mexico suspended construction ofits Capitol from 1857 to 1884. However, the federal govern­ ment expected the territories to fund the construction ofschools, hospitals, and asylums.u StiJJ, New Mexico actively sought federal financial assistance for general government expenses during the 1850S and 1860s. The attitude of New Mexicans reflected,the prevalent western view. In 1863, summoning "the 194 -t NEW MEXICO HISTORICAL REVIEW VOLUME 80, NUMBER 2 encouragement ofgovernment," the Santa Fe Weekly Gazette declared, "In the end the Government participates in the results of the pioneer's enter­ prise[,] and the wild Territory, which he reduces from the wilderness to the ab9de ofcivilization, becomes a part ofthe wealth and power ofa nation."IZ Despite the lack offederal appropriations for territorial education, New Mexicans formed districts and established schools during the thirty years following 1863. Private schools, primarily Catholic, served a significant num­ ber ofstudents, while public schools began to dot the territory. Sporadically and insufficiently funded, however, the latter operated under harsh condi­ tions. Geographic isolation, vast open spaces, and extreme weather condi­ tions made travel and communication difficult. Until the end ofthe Apache Wars in 1886, school administrators and teachers felt threatened by hostile Native Americans. Spanish-speakers comprised a majority of the popula­ tion, making effective communication challenging. Both Hispanics and Anglos inherently disliked property taxes and feared that Anglo teachers were going to change the ideas and ideals oftheir children. Such attitudes deterred public school efforts in New Mexico. Additionally, Congress failed to provide New Mexico's public schools with additional funding to com­ pensate for the minimal income the territory received from the school land grantsY In the mid-188os, excitement was building for some kind of public-edu­ cation governance. A reform-minded Democratic governor, Edmund G. Ross, addressed the need for a superintendent of public instruction in his message to the assembly in December 1886. About the same time, the New Mexico Educational Association (NMEA) held its initial meeting and en­ dorsed his position. Unsuccessful that year, Governor Ross tried again in 1888, but a political struggle between the governor and the assembly pre­ vented the creation ofthe superintendency.14 New Mexico legislators finally established the superintendency through H.B. 85, an "Act Establishing Common Schools in the Territory of New Mexico and Creating the Office of Superintendent of Public Instruction," in 1891. Despite the serious need for a territorial superintendent, the assem­ bly limited the official's responsibilities primarily to collecting data, com­ piling reports, recommending textbooks, and exhorting the people to support education. At the municipal and county levels, public officials and ordinary citizens saw no need for the territo'rial government supervision, preferring local control over their schools. Also, the Catholic Church hierarchy feared the loss offederal territorial support for Catholic schools in New Mexico at SPRING 2005 STERN AND CHAVEZ ~ 195 the same time that they worried about the imposition of a largely secular educational curriculum on their schools.t5 New Mexico's superintendency paralleled that ofother states and other territories. For example, Oklahoma established its superintendency with similar powers and duties just two months earlier than New Mexico did. Although New Mexico exhibited some unique characteristics such as the influence ofthe Catholic Church, it followed patterns ofpublic school gov­ ernance already firmly established elsewhere. The Catholic bishop main­ tained his seat on the Territorial Board of Education under the 1891 Act, which superseded the 1863 Act. The president of St. Michael's College of Santa Fe also sat on the board, and the superintendent's annual reports in­ cluded nonpub)ic (e.g., Catholic) schools. With the advice and consent of the territorial council (forerunner ofthe state senate), the governor appointed the territorial superintendent to serve a two-year term. As an ex-officio mem­ ber ofthe board, he sat as its secretary and kept the minutes. The member­ ship ofthe board changed from 1863 to 1891. In 1863 it comprised the governor, the secretary ofstate, the judges of the Supreme Court, and the bishop of New Mexico. In 1891 the board was made up of the governor, the superin­ tendent ofpublic instruction, and the respective presidents ofSt. Michael's College of Santa Fe, the University of New Mexico (UNM), and the New Mexico Agriculture and Mechanic College (NMA&M). The mandatory semiannual board meetings were held in the superintendent's office. 16 That arrangement kept the superintendent firmly under the supervision of federal territorial authorities but gave him access to men whose influence could benefit his office and the territorial school system. The statutory duties ofthe superintendent were wide ranging and highly demanding. They included (1) an'nual visits to each county; (2) filing and preserving reports submitted by county superintendents and administrators of other educational institutions (colleges, universities, and asylums); (3) recommendation of textbooks; (4) prescribing, printing, and disseminating official forms in English and Spanish; (5) publishing and distributing school laws; and (6) preparing and submitting an annual reportY He conducted his affairs from an office at the capitol in Santa Fe. His annual report, dated 31 December, contained statistical data on the number ofprivate and com­ mon schools; number, age, and sex of pupils in attendance; the subjects taught in all schools; and the value of public school property. Two weeks after passage ofthe initial act, another act- H.B. 190, "An Act in Relation to 1967 NEW MEXICO HISTORICAL REVIEW VOLUME 80, NUMBER 2

School Books" -specified the superintendent's duties for selecting, purchas­ ing, and selling textbooks and for an accounting offunds. 18 From 1891 to 1907 the assembly assigned the superintendent additional responsibilities. Legislation in 1903 required the superintendent to compile all territorial school laws biennially, pri'nt four thousand copies ofthe laws, half in Spanish and half in English, and distribute them to the county su­ perintendents. The assembly mandated that, by August 15 each year, county superintendents submit reports containing vital statistics and general infor­ mation concerning the public schools and monies received from the poll tax and fines. The superintendent's office became a collection point and clearing house for data, law, and general information related to education in New Mexico Territory.19 In the arena of higher education, the superintendent's supervision was minimal. Institutional officials sent to the superintendent copies of their annual reports, which he in turn appended to his annual reports to the gov­ ernor. The superintendent collected and reported data regarding students, status and progress ofthe institution, facilities, equipment, number ofgradu­ ates, value ofall property, receipts, disbursements, and the institution's overall financial condition. Although the superintendent and the presidents ofUNM and NMA&M served ex-officio on the territorial board from 1891 to 1901 and were in regular contact, the superintendent exercised no direct authority over them. Various institutional leaders began serving on the board as a result of its reconstitution in 1901. The Territorial Board of Education was expanded to seven members with five of those to be chosen from the presi­ dents ofthe territorial education institutions, the president ofSt. Michael's College of Santa Fe, and the superintendents ofthe four largest schools.20 By 1907, a rapidly expanding population and corresponding growth in student numbers created the need for more qualified and certified teachers than were either employed by or available to the New Mexico school sys­ tem. At the time, the county superintendents examined teachers and issued certificates. This process led to inconsistent procedures and standards. Pro­ fessional preparation and teacher development proved difficult without ter­ ritorial-level coordination and supervision, To address this problem, the assembly enlarged the superintendent's authority to supervise and oversee the teacher certification process and the organization of teacher institutes. Assigning general supervision of teacher training to the superintendent in­ dicated both the territory's need and the legislature's desire to expand the SPRING 2005 STERN AND CHAVEZ ~ 197 position's responsibilities and to enforce some uniformity on the prepara­ 2 tion of New Mexico teachers. ! In the 1909 legislative session the assembly mandated that the superin­ tendent give his opinion on any question or controversy arising out of an interpretation ofthe school law at the request ofa county superintendent or other school officer. If necessary, he could forward any question posed to him to the New Mexico territorial attorney general for an official opinion.12 The legislative mandate advanced the centralization ofeducational author­ ity by forcing county school administrators to turn to the territorial superin­ tendency for legal opinions and by requiring him to deliver them. The expansion of the territorial superintendent's duties coincided with the general growth of educational institutions between 1889 and 1911, the late territorial period. UNM (1889), NMA&M (1889), the New Mexico School ofMines (1889), the Asylum for the Deafand Dumb (1889), and the New Mexico Military Institute (1893) were established during this period, with the superintendent serving ex-officio on each institution's board. Addi­ tionally, he worked closely with two teacher-preparation colleges: the New Mexico Normal University at Las Vegas (1893) and the New Mexico Nor­ mal School at Silver City (1893)' The superintendentalso compiled data for both public and private schools. In the early twentieth century, the Catho­ lic Church still played a vital role in elementary and secondary education. Given that many members of the legislative assembly and the Territorial Board of Education were practicing Catholics and had been educated in Catholic schools, they had a vested interest in the existence of Catholic . schools and their relationship to public schools.23 From 1909 to 1916, very few ofthe superintendent's duties changed statu­ torily. Constitutionally, the superintendent continued to be an ex-officio member of the stat~ board of education, which controlled, managed, and supervised all public schools.24 During the territorial period, there were neither age, gender, residency, nor professional qualifications necessary for serving as the superintendent. That lack of specific qualifications for holding public office typified other government positions in New Mexico and other states and territories. But with statehood in 1912, the status ofexecutive officers, including the'super­ intendent, changed. New Mexicans seeking an office had to be male, a U.S. citizen, at least thirty years of age, and a continuous resident of New Mexico for five years preceding the election to the office. 25 The state super­ intendent ofeducation merited one additional qualification: he had to be a 198 ~ NEW MEXICO HISTORICAL REVIEW VOLUME 80, NUMBER 2 trained and experienced educator, a requirement that had been recom­ mended by the NMEA as early as 1905. Education became a high priority to state government, involving supervision at the highest levels of the execu­ tive branch. 26 The influence of the NMEA was also evident by statehood. After the constitution was ratified by the voters of New Mexico in 1911, the associa­ tion, now twenty-five years old, sent a letter to state convention delegates requesting they nominate to the state education superintendency "trained and experienced educators." The nominees had to have the following spe­ cific qualifications: a thorough education (defined as a college or normal school degree); a broad and general cultural background; knowledge of educational practices; and ability and success as a teacher and administra­ tor in New Mexico. The association also stated that the superintendent should exhibit high moral standing in private and public life and should place the well-being ofchildren's education over political expediency.27 By statehood, the NMEA had established itself as a powerful advocate for education. The association's founders included Elliott Whipple, super­ intendent of the Ramona Indian School at Santa Fe; F. E. Whittemore, principal ofthe Albuquerque Academy; and C. E. Hodgin, first superinten­ dent of schools in Albuquerque, later a dean and vice president of UNM, and editor of the New Mexico School Review. The organization's mission was to engage in political activity that benefitted teachers and improved education in New Mexico. Within a few years of its inception in 1886, the NMEA was playing an influential role in shaping the educational system of the territory, advocating for enhanced school legislation and free textbooks. 28 The new state constitution restricted most executive officers to one four­ year term. Only the state superintendent and land commissioner could suc­ ceed themselves. Discontent with these provisions soon surfaced, and in 1914 a constitutional amendment reduced the terms for all state executive officers to two years, with a maximum of two consecutive terms.29

Six New Mexico Superintendents of Public Instruction: 1891-1912

Soon after Republican governor L. Bradford Prince signed the 1891 school bill establishing the position ofsuperintendent, his office received letters of application or nomination for the superintendency. Correspondents pro­ posed six candidates; three men applied on their own. The nomination let- SPRING 2005 STERN AND CHAVEZ? 199 ters expressed the need for an educator with teaching or administrative ex­ perience, while one writer, Elmore Chaves, raised a concern about the re­ ligious beliefs ofthe appointee. fu, president ofthe recently formed NMEA, Chaves wrote, "1 can say that this association has no candidate to present and would not wish to dictate ... but this much we fell [sic] at liberty to say with a great deal of earnestness, that we could not be reconciled to any appointment which would place the Romish Church at the head of the schoolwork ofthis Territory." The association's position reflected its sincere interest in a genuinely public-education system without favoritism toward any faith. After considering the various candidates, Governor Prince ap­ pointed Amado Chaves as the first territorial superintendent of public in­ struction on 24 February 1891, and he took office on 1March 1891. Like each of the other five territorial superintendents noted in this study, Chaves was a Republican. 30

Amado Chaves (1891-1897,1904-19°5) Amado Chaves was born on 14 April 1851 in Santa Fe, Territory of New Mexico. He studied at St. Michael's College of Santa Fe and in the Wash­ ington, D.C., public schools. He earned a bachelor of laws degree at the National University Law School in Washington, D.C., in 1876. After re­ turning to New Mexico, he engaged in ranching and stock raising, was elected clerk and assessor in Valencia County, and was elected to the Ter­ ritorial House in 1884, where he was unanimously chosen Speaker at the 3 first session. ! Despite Chaves's Republican Party affiliation, Democratic governor William T. Thornton reappointed Chaves twice. Later, in 1904, Republican governor Miguel A. Otero appointed Amado to complete the un­ expired term of J. Francisco Chaves, who had been assassinated. At the end ofthe briefterm, in 1905, Otero appointed Amado to the newly created position ofassistant superintendent of

AMADO CHAVES, FIRST NEW MEXICO TERRITORIAL SUPERINTENDENT OF PUBLIC INSTRUCTION (1891-1897, 19°4-19°5) (Courtesy Museum of New Mexico, Santa Fe, neg. no. 171103) 200 ~ NEW MEXICO HISTORICAL REVIEW VOLUME 80, NUMBER 2 public instruction. Eighteen months later, he resigned to engage in other work. However, his educational mission was still incomplete. Gov. George Curry appointed Amado as a noneducator citizen to the Territorial Board of Education in 1909. Thus, in the twenty-one years of the territorial su­ perintendency and Territorial Board of Education, Amado served three two-year terms and a four-month interim term as superintendent, one and one-halfyears as assistant superintendent, and almost three years as a board memberY After leaving office, Amado practiced law, ranched, and farmed. At his death, the Santa Fe New Mexican described him as "a consistent Republi­ can; a gentleman in the true sense of the word; suave, obliging, courteous and polished and a hard worker; he is a finely educated man. He is a true, tried and trusted friend of the American public school system." Another equally magnanimous observer wrote, "Don Amado was justly proud of his distinguished descent, but in a quiet and unpretentious way. Exemplary in private life, faithful in public office, he was a cultured Christian gentle­ man." And S. Peter Nanninga concluded that, since Amado was Spanish and Catholic, "suspicions were allayed that the public school system might be an American scheme for training children away from their ancestral tra­ ditions." Amado Chaves died on 30 December 1930, in Santa Fe, at age seventy-nine.)) Amado served his native territory well. His ancestry, religion, education, politics, bilingualism (fluent in Spanish and English), and support for pub­ lic education provided what the territory needed in the initial stages ofde­ veloping an educational system. Opinions and ideas for changes and improvements, included in his annual reports, reflected an understanding ofthe milieu in which the fledgling governance system was developing. He advocated public schools butalso found a place for private schools. He wrote eloquently about the need for children to learn, but he preferred excellent schools and school environments rather than compulsory attendance. Amado argued that Spanish-speaking students deserved teachers who could speak Spanish andEnglish, and he urged local school boards to hire only teachers who were fluent in both languages. His final annual report, written shortly before leaving office in March 1897, revealed his conviction that New Mexico's residents were more than capable offilling all school positions. "It is not only a very short sighted policy, but also a great injustice, that the best positions should be given to strangers, and that our own people should be relegated to the remote, poorly-paid districts [sic] schools." Amado wanted SPRING 2005 STERN AND CHAVEZ ~ 201 all children to be educated in an environment that expanded their horizons and simultaneously passed on the heritage and legacy oftheir ancestors. He believed New Mexican teachers understood the culture, language, customs, . and religion of the region, which compensated for any deficiency in their formal preparation. Although Amado expressed a cultural perspective popular in New Mexico, particularly among Hispa~ics, his position did not represent the majority thinking in turn-of-the-century America. Across the nation, conventional wisdom, reflecting the notiof). of the melting pot, held that all foreigners and minorities should be assimilated into the cultural mainstream-Anglo society specifically. National leaders sought acommon value system, and they considered the public school system to be the best way to inculcate national conformity.34 Amado's advocacy ofsensitivity to local traditions and of cultural diversity flew against the prevailing winds of national culture and politics. Emerging during the initial stages ofpublic school system development in New Mexico were issues surrounding teacher preparation and certifica­ tion. Who would prepare teachers, who would have the authority to issue certificates, and what criteria would be used to determine q\lalifications? Initially, county institutes, normal institutes, and other means of certifying teachers were nonexistent. County superintendents had been responsible for setting qualifications, examining teachers, and issuing certificates, but educational leaders soon called for a more coordinated system. Reformers wanted to reduce the wide variation in examination content and testing conditions and to avoid the politically-influenced issuance of certificates. The standards and integrity ofeach county's process depended on the edu­ cational level and professionalism of the school superintendent. To coax some order from the chaos, Amado encouraged the legislature to standard­ ize at least the teachers' certificates. More specific suggestions addressing the multiple aspects of the examinations, lengths and kinds of certificates, and the appropriate government level at which they would be issued would come from his successors.35 In many New Mexico communities the dominant spoken language was Spanish. After legislation in 1891 required instruction to be in English, the territory immediately needed bilingual teachers. Amado recommended in his 1896 report that the assembly recruit teachers fluent in Spanish for predominantly Spanish-speaking districts, but the provision did not pass until 1901.16 202 ~ NEW MEXICO HISTORICAL REVIEW VOLUME 80, NUMBER 2

Quickly-formed districts triggered many disputes over new and pre­ existing district boundaries. Consistent with his preference for giving more authority to county superintendents to administer county schools, Amado urged the assembly to give them expanded responsibility in conflict resolu­ tion. Amado believed that these decisions could be made most efficiently at the local level where county officials understood local needs and desires. 37 Because he was the first superintendent ofa fledgling system and served for six years, no other single individual had more influence over the public education system in New Mexico during the territorial period than Amado Chaves. His appointment and administration helped alleviate the Catho­ lics' fears that the territorial government would usurp all authority over edu­ cation. In the larger picture, Amado was an integral agent in Governor Prince's push for New Mexico statehood. The governor wanted to show the outside world that the territory was indeed ready for statehood, and, as a state, New Mexico could root out the corruption ofthe territorial system. His por­ trait ofNew Mexico, which he painted for legislators in Washington, was one ofcultural unity. A strategy to achieve statehood, his vision portrayed the Indi­ ans as subdued and the Hispanics as Americanized. Prince wanted the nation to believe that the different cultures ofNew Mexico were living in harmony.38 Amado Chaves, as head ofthe education system, would bring Catholic His­ panics and Anglo Protestants together to their mutual benefit.

Placido Sandoval (1897-1898) Succeeding Amado Chaves as superintendent of public instruction was Placido Sandoval. Born in Santa Fe on 6 Octoper 1846, he served in the Civil War. After working as a clerk for a "- mercantile company, he engaged in farming and dabbled in civic affairs and local politics; in 1884 the citizens ofSan Miguel County elected him treasurer.

PLACIDO SANDOVAL, NEW MEXICO TERRITORIAL SUPERINTENDENT OF PUBLIC INSTRUCTION (1897-1898) (Courtesy New Mexico Department of Education, New Mexico State Records Center and Archives, Santa Fe, no. 3168) SPRING 2005 STERN AND CHAVEZ ~ 203

Two years later, he was elected to the Territorial Council representing San Miguel and Guadalupe Counties. Although a Republican, he was nomi­ nated by the Democratic acting governor, Lorian Miller, and confirmed as territorial superintendent on 2 March 1897.39 Sandoval served the shortest tenure ofall territorial superintendents, from March 1897 to May 1898. His background was business, farming,' and politics­ not education. His undistinguished term was characterized by a dramatic interpersonal feud. His annual report, filed in 1897, was suspiciously similar to his predecessor's. Soon after Sandoval began his term, a political rival and nemesis, Miguel A. Otero Jr., became territorial governor. Governor Otero wanted Sandoval's resignation the moment he assumed his guberna­ torial duties. He and Sandoval were both from San Miguel County and knew each other well. Both had been elected in 1888 to county positions­ Otero to clerk and Sandoval to commissioner. In 1896, Sandoval was elected to the Territorial Council. Both men served concurrently as ex-officio mem­ bers of the Territorial Board of Education for the last nine months of Sandoval's fourteen-month-long term. Meanwhile, Felix Martinez, active in the Democratic Party in San Miguel County and owner of a Spanish­ language newspaper, used that public forum to attack Otero and the Re­ publican Party, a practice that Otero-a Republican-disliked. By spring 1897, Otero believed Sandoval was selling out to Martinez and the Demo­ crats. In his memoirs, Otero wrote: "I was requesting his resignation as superintendent ofpublic instruction. I added that if it was not delivered to me at once I would find it my duty to remove him. He handed in his resignation [not immediately-he resigned nine months later] but became one ofmy bitterest enemies in San Miguel County."40 In fourteen months, Sandoval accomplished almost nothing except antagonizing Otero and the Republicans.

Manuel C. de Baca (1898-19°1) Governor Otero accepted Sandoval's resignation on 7 May 1898 and quickly appointed Republican Manuel C. de Baca. A resident of Las Vegas, C. de Baca, like Sandoval, was an active politician and not an educator. He was born in Cerrillos on 24 May 1853, attended St. Michael's College of Santa Fe, was tutored privately and admitted to the New Mexico bar to practice law in July 1882. Over the next ten years, he worked as an attorney for the Fourth Judicial District and was elected to several different offices: city 2044 NEW MEXICO HISTORICAL REVIEW VOLUME 80, NUMBER 2

MANUEL C. DE BACA, NEW MEXICO TERRITORIAL SUPERINTENDENT OF PUBLIC INSTRUCTION (1898-19°1) (Courtesy Elba C. de Baca) attorney in Las Vegas (1882-1886), New Mexico Congressional representative from San Miguel County (1886-1887), and probate judge ofthe same county (1888-1892). From 1892 until his ap­ pointment to the superintendency in 1898, he served as commissioner of the U.S. District Court ofNew Mexico. C. de Baca's initial appointment completed Sandoval's unexpired term in March 1899. On March 13, Otero reappointed C. de Baca; by the time this two-year term ex­ pired in 1901, C. de Baca had served almost three years. 41 C. de Baca's reputation as an advocate for public education predated his term as superintendent. He used his position as Speaker ofthe House ofthe Twenty-seventh Legislative Assembly in 1886-1887 to promote the estab­ lishment of a unified public school system throughout the territory. Even though he failed to achieve his goal as a legislator, he continued to promote public schooling as a private citizen until its creation in 1891. As superinten­ dent, C. de Baca recommended legislation to improve the quality ofteach­ ers and increase school funding. Consistent with his predecessor, he urged the legislature to give the Territorial Board of Education authority to issue New Mexico teaching certificates. He also expressed support for mandatory teacher attendance at the normal institutes. Both of these suggestions were written into law by 1905.42 While C. de Baca wanted the legislature to boost county superinten­ dents' authority and responsibility, he also expected that higher eligibility qualifications and higher levels of accountability be applied to them. He wanted county superintendents to be able to approve teachers' contracts and to suspend teachers and school directors for just cause, believing that county superintendents should be able to remove teachers whose moral conduct or behavior rendered them incompetent or unfit to teach, and to remove directors who failed to make a complete census ofthe school popu­ lation. His successor, J. Francisco Chaves, concurred with C. de Baca on SPRING 2005 STERN AND CHAVEZ ~ 205 these positions. The assembly, however, enacted only the last of these recommendations-county superintendents were empowered to remove di­ rectors who failed to make a complete census of the school population­ butsuggested that expanded local control would benefit the rural population. This emphasis conveyed the view among lawmakers that a quality educa­ tion was a local responsibilityY The legislature was still unwilling to impose a unified set ofeducational standards on both teachers and students.

Jose Francisco Chaves (1901-1904) After the first decade of operation, Governor Otero placed supervision of the territorial public education system in the hands of the highly educated and long-tenured politician Col. J. Francisco Chaves. Born on 7 June 1833 in Los Padillas, Bernalillo County, Colonel Chaves was a well-known and native-born soldier, rancher, and attorney who rose to great prominence in New Mexico public affairs. He was educated at St. Louis University in Mis­ souri and in New York City at a private academy and the College ofPhysi­ cians and Surgeons. Fluency in English and Spanish and refined oratory skills made him an effective public and political communicator.44 Colonel Chaves was first elected to the territorial house in 1859; six years later he was elected territorial delegate to the U.S. Congress, where he served two terms. He then represented Valencia County on the Territorial Council from 1878 to 1904- Colonel Chaves served as president of the Territorial Council and superintendent of public instruction simultaneously, begin­ ning the latter post in late March 1901. His last two elections to the council reflected his popularity: He soundly defeated his Demo~ratic opponent 1,971 votes to 48 in 1902 and 2,236 to 391 in 1904. Colonel Chaves's term as superintendent ended dra­ matically when an assassin fatally shot him at Pinos Wells on 26 November 1904- One theory blames his death on men whom

JOSE FRANCISCO CHAVES, NEW MEXICO TERRITORIAL SUPERINTENDENT OF

PUBLIC INSTRUCTION (1901-1904) (Photograph by J. M. Crausbay Studio, courtesy Museum of New Mexico, Santa Fe, neg. no. 27132) 206? NEW MEXICO HISTORICAL REVIEW VOLUME 80, NUMBER 2 he alienated while gathering evidence for cattle rustling and other crimes in his home county; another theory claims his killing was politically moti­ vated. Colonel Chaves, after all, was prominent for decades in the rough and tumble terrain ofNew Mexico politics. Some observers speculated that his death involved the pardon and release of a prisoner who was promised immunity from prosecution ifhe killed Colonel Chaves. 45 A man ofColonel Chaves's stature and prominence wielded much influ­ ence in the territory, and he was determined to leave his mark on the educa­ tional system. He used his personal fortune to fund projects that, he thought, would benefit education in the territory. His first annual report reflects in its close attention to detail his determination to change the course ofaction. He believed his predecessors had presented data in a confusing and inaccessible format, so he scientifically organized the data and appended it to the end of the report.46 Colonel Chaves's alteration reflects the beliefofearly-twentieth­ century Progressive Era reformers in the power ofscience and experts to shape public policy and ultimately to improve the quality of daily life. He brought that attitude to bear on New Mexico educational policy. Colonel Chaves was surprised at the passion of New Mexicans for the education of their children. That perception was likely shaped by contact with New Mexicans during his annual inspections of county schools and his lack of budgetary resources to deliver quality education to their chil­ dren. He believed that the inequitable distribution of financial resources short-changed primary education· in rural areas, particularly their public schools. He thought a disproportionate amount of money went to higher education. Between 1891 and 1903, for example, the number ofstate institu­ tions grew from four to seven. In 190~, faculty in the seven institutions num­ bered 75, student enrollment was 1,°58, and the average college professor's salary was $930, while the average public school teacher's salary was $272. Additionally, the student-professor ratio was 14.1 to 1 while the student­ teacher ratio was 47.9 to 1(37,972 students to 793 teachers). To correct the problem, Colonel Chaves suggested that lawmakers reduce the number of professors employed in the colleges and universities by one-third. Appro­ priations to higher education ought to be scaled down, he argued, to make university institutions more nearly self-supporting. The savings should be used to hire qualified teachers in the rural school districts. The legislature, however, did not share his concern and ignored his recommendation.47 Colonel Chaves's comments regarding the needs ofthe superintendency also reflected his personal fin~ncial commitment to his office. The meager SPRING 2005 STERN AND CHAVEZ ~ 207 legislative appropriations were insufficient for its operations, and he needed clerical assistance as well. He dipped into his own pocket to fulfill statutory requirements. Colonel Chaves chided the assembly for yearly legislating new mandates for the superintendent's office but failing to provide the funds to enact them. In 1901 he wrote, "These matters should be brought forcibly to the attention ofthe next session ofthe general assembly." Colonel Chaves, of course, could set the assembly's agenda as president of the Territorial Council.48 Indeed, he used his power to expand the superintendent's office and increase its budget. Although Colonel Chaves had served in the assembly prior to his appointment to the superintendency, he was dismayed by the condition of public education and the financial needs of the office during his term. In 1905, the assembly created the assistant superintendent ofpub­ lic instruction with the stipulation that the person be "thoroughly conver­ sant with the Spanish and English languages," and began appropriating additional funds to operate the office.49 The new staffand increased budget eased the workload and financial pressures on the superintendent, making the office a more effective advocate and administrator ofpublic education.

Hiram Hadley (19°5-19°7) For the first fourteen years ofthe superintendency, seasoned politicians pro­ vided the educational leadership in the territory. Although these men were respected, influential, and native to New Mexico, early in 1905 Governor Otero received letters from educators recommending he name one oftheir own-an educator-to the top position. The president of the Las Vegas Board of Educa­ tion and the chairman of the NMEA sent official letters to the governor emphasizing that an educator would place the responsi­ bilities of the office above political consid­ erations. Political ramifications would be

HIRAM HADLEY, NEW MEXICO TERRITORIAL SUPERINTENDENT OF PUBLIC INSTRUCTION (19°5-19°7) (Photograph by Stevens, courtesy Museum of New Mexico, Santa Fe, neg.. no. 9910) 208 -7 NEW MEXICO HISTORICAL REVIEW VOLUME 80, NUMBER 2 minimized, they argued, ifpolitics were removed from the decision-making process of the superintendent. In their view, a candidate who understood education and the needs ofthe schools would communicate better with the education community and the legislature. Governor Otero obliged them by naming an experienced educator and the first non-native New Mexican to the position - Hiram Hadley.50 Hadley was born near Wilmington, Ohio, on 17 March 1833. As a young man, Hadley studied at Earlham and Haverford colleges and began teach­ ing in Grassy Run, Ohio, at age seventeen. Hadley made teaching stops in Carthage and Richm()nd, Indiana, before he moved to Chicago to lead Hadley Brothers, Booksellers. On two separate occasions fire destroyed the business; in the great Chicago fire of 1871 and again in 1874. Seven years later, his wife died from a protracted illness. In 1880, he began Hadley's Classical Academy in Indianapolis; Charles E. Hodgin, who later became a prominent educator in New Mexico, was one of Hadley's students. Five years later, Hadley, a member of the Society of Friends (Quakers), became principal of the Friend's Academy in Bloomington, Indiana. In 1887, now remarried, Hadley moved to Las Cruces to help care for his eldest child, Walter, who died soon after he arrived. Within six months, Hadley delivered an address, "The Educational Needs ofthe Hour," to the second annual convention ofthe NMEA in Las Vegas. Initially, he was en­ gaged in real estate but quickly gave support and assistance to organizing A&M in Las Cruces, serving as its first president from 1889 to 1894. When the legislature established the Territorial Board ofEducation in 1891, Hadley, as president ofA&M, became an ex-officio member and served until 1894. From 1894 to 1897, the UNM Board of Regents put him in charge of run­ ning the university with the title of vice-president (while, incongruously, UNM regent Elias S. Stover was the university's "nominal" president). From 1897 to 1905, Hadley was professor of history and philosophy at A&M, and later became a member of the A&M Board of Regents. 51 Hadley expressed his ambitions to become superintendent of public in­ struction as early as 189T "It is not the emoluments ofthe office I am seek­ ing, although it is necessary to have these. My greatest desire is, at or near the close of my educational work, to have the privilege ofdoing a work that will be particularly congenial to me, and oflasting benefit to New Mexico." He attained his goal a few years later. Hadley's response to the council's confirmation ofhis appointment on 27 February 1905 reflected his humble Quaker upbringing and his age, seventy-two. He wrote, "Now I pledge you SPRING 2005 STERN AND CHAVEZ ~ 209

that if the dear Lord gives me my accustomed health, you shall never have occasion to blush for naming me to this position."52

The fifth of six territorial superintendents, Hadley served from 1 April 1905 to 6 March 1907. After taking office, he wrote a circular informing educators in the territory that the superintendent had little legal authority to direct the educational system. Ifthe office were to be ofvalue and assistance to educators, it would be most effective through advising, inspiring, and collaborating with them in their difficult tasks. The Santa Fe New Mexican, unaccustomed to such frankness in public office, commented that Hadley's letter was appropriate because of his significant reputation in educational affairs. 53 An educator before moving to the territory and a pioneer in education in the territory, Hadley was proud ofthe progress already achieved. His initial letter communicated to educators and the public Progressive ideas, preva­ lent at that time, concerning the improved operations of schools. For ex­ ample, Hadley considered the professional growth of teachers-especially those teaching at the elementary level-imperative. He wanted to address the problem through summer institutes, but was concerned about their quality and consistency. He urged the legislature, as did C. de Baca a few years earlier, to shift some ofthe control over the institutes from the county superintendents to the territorial superintendent. The assembly agreed with Hadley and enacted a law to accomplish this transfer of authority.54 More circular letters on various topics followed, until Hadley had writ­ ten about ten in his two-year term. Among the topics addressed were the need for teachers to promote education in their communities and the terri­ tory and his advocacy for publishing a journal for teachers. He wrote to school boards ofeducation suggesting that qualified teachers did not neces­ sarily have to be from New Mexico. Regardless of their origin, Hadley be­ lieved, the best-qualified persons should be hired and preference should not be given to New Mexico natives if their qualifications were not com­ petitive, although he did not explicitly state what qualifications a teacher should have. With a high proportion of Spanish-speaking students, the ter­ ritory needed teachers who were fluent in Spanish. Unclear in the histori­ cal record is whether Hadley preferred hiring better prepared, out-of-state, non-Spanish-speaking teachers over less-well-prepared, Spanish-speaking New Mexicans.55 Hadley began his first annual report with a glowing description of the higher education institutions scattered across the territory and the valuable 210? NEW MEXICO HISTORICAL REVIEW VOLUME 80, NUMBER 2 work they were doing to advance the territory. Unlike J. Francisco Chaves, who had no experience in higher education, Hadley saw no need for a re­ distribution of the financial resources from universities to the common schools. Addressing the latter, he articulated the rationale for the transfer of the rural-school governance from school directors to a yet-to-be-established county board ofdirectors, which would in turn appoint the county superin­ tendent. Rural schools, Hadley wrote, were unsatisfactory for many reasons: the districts were too large geographically, the population was too sparse, taxable property generated insufficient revenue, teachers were often incom­ petent, their salaries were too low, and the school year was too short. In his second report to the assembly, Hadley firmly stressed the necessity and fea­ sibility ofstreamlining the school governance system. Two years after he left office, provisions for a consolidated system were written into a bill that failed to pass by one vote. 56 Hiram Hadley constituted the transition in the superintendency from well-known, native-born politicians to Progressive-era career educators. His experience in common schools, higher education, and school-related busi­ nesses in Illinois and Indiana, and the influence of Progressive thinking then sweeping across the country gave him a broad perspective on the over­ all responsibility of the state or territory to educate its citizens, particularly in skills critical to successful agrarian life. He realized that political and budgetary limitations hindered the superintendent's effectiveness. In addi­ tion to improving their pedagogic skills, educators view themselves as mis­ sionaries and work with righteous zeal. This philosophy fit well with Hadley's efforts as founder ofA&M and as superintendent. He served as superinten­ dent for only two years -less than all the other superintendents except Sandoval-but he left his imprint on the educational system. After leaving office, he returned to Mesilla Park where he lived until his death on 3 De­ cember 1922.57

James Clark (19°7-1912) The sixth and last territorial superintendent, Republican James Elton Clark, rose from the ranks ofthe territorial superintendent's office. Amado Chaves resigned as assistant superintendent in October 1906; Republican governor Herbert J. Hagerman waited until December ofthat year to appoint Clark, then superintendent of the Albuquerque Public Schools, to be Chaves's successor. Clark simultaneously accepted the assistant superintendency and resigned from the Territorial Board of Education, a position that he had SPRING 2005 STERN AND CHAVEZ ~ 211

JAMES ELTON CLARK, FINAL NEW MEXICO TERRITORIAL SUPERINTENDENT OF PUBLIC INSTRUCTION (19°7-1912) (Courtesy Museum of New Mexico,

Santa Fe, neg. no. 171102)

held since February 1906, representing the large-city school superintendents. Clark's appointment to this position was understood as a precursor to his appointment as state superintendent.58 Clark became superintendent of pub­ lic instruction and an ex-officio mem­ ber ofthe Territorial Board ofEducation the same day Hadley left in March 1907. He was born on 4 January 1874, in Milan County, Michigan. Clark gradu­ ated from the Ypsilanti Normal College (now Eastern Michigan Univer­ sity) in 1894 with a degree in English and Latin and a lifetime teaching certificate. Thus, Clark was the first New Mexico superintendent educated at a normal school influenced by Progressive-era thinking. He then obtained experience working as a superintendent in three Michigan school districts: Shelby (1894-1898), Frankfort (1898-1903), and Holland (1903-19°5).59 He brought modern ideas and pedagogy and extensive experience to the ad­ ministration of public schools in New Mexico. His first New Mexico superintendency occurred in Albuquerque. Within a few months of his arrival in 1905, Clark was appointed to the Territorial Board of Education. Soon, he became assistant state superintendent and shortly thereafter was appointed territorial superintendent by Governor Hagerman on 4 March 1907. Ascendancy to the top educational position came after only two years in the territory, and at the relatively young age of 32. In 1909, he was reappointed by Republican governor George Curry and served until New Mexico attained statehood on 6 January 1912.60 Under Clark's leadership, the territorial assembly established the Depart­ ment ofEducation in 1905. Soon after, legislators increased the department's appropriations, which enabled the hiring ofmore staff. The superintendent's duties and responsibilities expanded as well. Clark continued his predecessor's practice of writing circular letters, though less frequently, to communicate 212 ~ NEW MEXICO HISTORICAL REVIEW VOLUME BO, NUMBER 2 with educators and school directors in New Mexico and teachers from neigh­ boring states who inquired about teaching requirements and conditions in New Mexico. However, these communications lacked the intensity ofopin­ ions reflected in Hadley's writings. Incorporating the techniques of Progressive-era social sciences, Clark provided a statistical analysis that compared the progress ofNew Mexico to that ofother territories and states in the area ofeducation. For example, he showed that New Mexico led Louisiana and equalled Arizona and Texas in the percentage of the population enrolled in school. New Mexico also led Arkansas, Oklahoma, Arizona, and even Texas in the daily attendance for each one hundred children enrolled. School was in session more days of the year in New Mexico than in Oklahoma, Texas, and Arkansas. 61 Clark recommended several legislative changes that reflected Progressive thinking in education. In addition to rather dramatic increases in Depart­ ment of Education funding, he urged teaching only English in the elemen­ tary schools. Clark wrote that both parents and children supported this increasingly popular trend, even in outlying areas where residents previously demanded instruction in Spanish. Clark provided no evidence supporting this observation, but it echoed the policies evolving in states overwhelmed by massive immigration from southern and eastern Europe: all children, regard­ less of their native language, should be taught in English. Anglo reformers and policymakers in the East and in New Mexico generally viewed native Spanish-speaking New Mexicans as a resident foreign population and the public education system as a mechanism for Americanizing them. Forcing students, particularly Spanish-speaking pupils, to speak only English in the classroom was a primary tool in the mainstreaming process. 62 The assembly implemented few, ifany, ofClark's legislative suggestions but fully funded his financial requests: publishing a book ofplans and speci­ fications for physical facilities, lighting, and heating; examining teachers for certification; preparing and distributing a "Common School Course of Study"; compiling teachers' institute manuals; and creating several new of­ fice positions in the department. Apparently, funding was more politically expedient and palatable than legislative enactments.6l Like Progressive edu­ cators in other regions ofthe United States, Clark sought to standardize the school physical plant, teacher training and credentialing, and educational curriculum throughout New Mexico. His intention was to guarantee the territory's children the same basic-but high level of-education whether they attended urban or rural schools. SPRING 2005 STERN AND CHAVEZ ~ 213

Alvan N. White (1912-1916)

New Mexico's two major political parties held the first "state" party conven­ tions in the fall of1911. The Republican convention took place in Septem­ ber, before the first state election in November 1911, and the Democratic convention was held in early October, three months before New Mexico officially became a state on 6 January 1912. The purpose was to elect their nominees for state office and for the U.S. House of Representatives.64 Clark sought the Republican nomination for state superintendent. He was young, educated, experienced, and mobile in the sense that he had a track record of moving to new locales if necessary to secure promotions or professional challenges. During his six years in the territory, he had gained the confidence of educators, and they supported his candidacy to become the first elected state superintendent. But GOP politicians had other plans. At their convention, Republican delegates nominat~d Andrew Stroup, the Bernalillo County superintendent, in spite of no particular enthusiasm for his candidacy outside that county. The nomination was accepted by accla­ mation, but an immediate motion to suspend the rules triggered a scatter­ ing of hisses and boos, indicating that not all were in favor of Stroup. The Albuquerque Morning Journal reported that Clark was unpopular with GOP leaders, who thus decreed his defeat. Upon statehood, Clark had to be satis­ fied with his appointment as superintendent of the Santa Fe City School District.65 Although trained as a lawyer, Stroup devoted his professional career to education. Like Clark, Stroup graduated from normal school and then mi­ grated to New Mexico to work in education. Observers described him as progressive in education and politics, and an eloquent and convincing speaker. However, in the state's first election in November 1911, Stroup lost to the Democratic candidate for state superintendent, Alvan N. White.66 White, the first state superintendent, was born on 8 May 1869, in Wash­ ington County, Tennessee, and attended public school nearby in Greene County. After completing a clerical course at Carson-Newman College in 1893, he began his career as a public school teacher in Tennessee. Mter three years ofteaching and studying law, he was admitted to the bar in Ten­ nessee and New Mexico. He moved to Silver City, New Mexico Territory, in 1896 and began a law practice. After two years as city attorney in Silver City, he won the election for the Grant County school superintendency in 1900, a position to which he was re-elected twice. He unsuccessfully sought 214 ~ NEW MEXICO HISTORICAL REVIEW VO,,"UME 80, NUMBER 2

ALVAN N. WHITE, FIRST NEW

MEXICO STATE SUPERINTENDENT

OF PUBLIC INSTRUCTION (1912­

1916). From Ralph E. Twitchell, The Leading Facts of New Mexican History, vol. 5 (1911­ 1917; reprint, Albuquerque: Horn & Wallace, 1963), 134. (Courtesy Horn 6 Wallace, copyright 1917) election to the New Mexico Territo­ rial House, Territorial Senate, and constitutional convention in 1898, 1906, and 1910, respectively.67 Under the new state system, the superintendent's authority was still lim­ ited. At the end of 1912, the New Mexico Department of Education had held teacher institutes in all the counties and printed several publications: rules and regulations, courses ofstudy, a school anniversaries program book, and the school code. Under White's prodding, the legislature also enacted the industrial education program. Four years later White's focus was the two pressing needs of the state Department of Education: He wanted the cre­ ation of a Commission on Illiteracy to discuss and address that problem Widespread in New Mexico and the enactment ofan educational survey to determine the strengths and weaknesses ofthe state's public education sys­ tem. Low returns on the survey- only ten ofthe twenty-six county superin­ tendents responded-the restrictions on the superintendent's power, and the decentralization ofthe New Mexico school system indicated the weak­ nesses ofthe superintendent's office, even in statehood.68 In August 1916, White announced his political intentions. In a letter to the Democratic state chairman, he wrote that educators and political friends had asked him to seek renomination and reelection. At the Democratic convention, however, he was defeated by John L. G. Swinney. The Albu­ querque Morning Journal commented that White's defeat was political ne­ cessity. Both White and William B. Walton, the nominee for U.S. Congress, were from Grant County. Also, many party delegates wanted to recognize the northwestern section of the state, especially San Juan County, histori­ cally a Democratic stronghold and the home ofSwinney. Democratic Party SPRING 2005 STERN AND CHAVEZ? 215

leaders encouraged delegates to consider geographic representation across the state when casting their votes. Since White failed to win the nomination, his term concluded at the end ofDecember 1916. He went on to a distinguished career in state politics (as a state representative from 1926 to 1937 and Speaker of the House from 1931 to 1937), in the New Mexico Bar Association, and in other government positions. White died in Silver City on 18 June 1945. 69

Conclusion

In general, the superintendent ofpublic instruction enjoyed a unique posi­ tion from which to observe and oversee the operation of the territorial and early statehood education system. Territorial and state law required the su­ perintendent to fulfill specific duties that included collecting data for and filing an annual report. In addition to fulfilling statutory requirements, the superintendent lobbied for programs and standards to advance and enrich public education in New Mexico. The success or effectiveness ofthe super­ intendent, however, often depended on his personal influence in the politi­ cal system of New Mexico.70 Similar topics consistently emerge from several of the superintendents' recommendations. The legislature should provide free textbooks to all chil­ dren regardless of their economic status; a reliable, effective, and efficient source of funding should replace the poll tax; and rural schools should be consolidated to improve students' educational experience. These issues seemed fruitful areas for change, but none were initially passed by the legis­ lature. Most of the recommendations requested money to fund schools ad­ equately or to operate schools more efficiently. However, during this period the general populace opposed tax increases earmarked to fund schools. In addition, rural interests resisted any consolidation. In the first twenty-five years of organized education (1891-1916), New Mexico chose to model its educational system on that ofother states. Simi­ lar to other states, New Mexico granted little real authority to the newly­ created position ofsuperintendent of public instruction. Ifschool funding derived primarily from local resources, many New Mexicans preferred to retain control over schools at the local level. As town and city school dis­ tricts grew, their self-sufficiency precluded the need for firm state supervi­ sion. Rural schools, on the other hand, constantly struggled to find adequate 216 ~ NEW MEXICO HISTORICAL REVIEW VOLUME 80, NUMBER 2 financial resources and quality teachers. The territorial or state superinten­ dents were most effective when championing the needs and interests of New Mexico's rural schools in the legislature. The challenges of bringing education to rural New Mexico absorbed much of the attention and re­ sources ofthe superintendent of public instruction. The seven superintendents who served during this quarter century brought a diverse range of ages, experiences, religion, and perspective to the office. The first four (A. Chaves, Sandoval, C. de Baca, and J. F. Chaves) used their New Mexican background, heritage, and political influence to fulfill their duties while simultaneously engaging in other activities. All were Catho­ lic and ranged in age from forty to sixty-seven at the time of their appoint­ ments. The next two (Hadley and Clark) were professional educators who moved to the territory to further their careers. The seventh, White, relo­ cated to New Mexico to launch his law career and soon after successfully sought election to the Grant County superintendency. Hadley served at the end ofhis career; Clark, at age thirty-two, assumed the position in the early stages of his career; and White, at age forty-three, was appointed in mid­ career. In terms of religious affiliations, Hadley and White were Quaker and Baptist, respectively. In the U.S. territorial system, governors appointed superintendents of public instruction to two-year terms. Such a system tended to encourage the appointment of political allies, not professional educators, to the su­ perintendency. Fourteen years ofthis tendency in New Mexico ended when Hadley was made superintendent. At statehood, the New Mexico Constitu­ tion mandated that the superintendent be a member ofthe executive branch and meet the same basic eligibility requirements as other state executive officers. In addition, the state required that the superintendent be a trained and experienced educator. Further, the state superintendency became an elected position until 1958, when the state constitution was amended to make it an appointed position again.7! In the minds ofprofessional teachers, politics and education did not mix. The educators of the territory wanted an educational system that was insu­ lated from the machinations typically found in Gilded Age political sys­ tems. Although they eschewed the politics, they took advantage of the political system to support their candidates for state superintendent. How­ ever, in 1911 and 1916, seasoned politicians and party bosses worked against the incumbents (Clark and White, respectively), whom educators preferred, and tapped candidates to fulfill party agendas and promises. SPRING 2005 STERN AND CHAVEZ ~ 217

The vastness ofthe New Mexico Territory, the existence oftwo languages, the scant income from federal land grants, the sparsity of population, and other difficulties represented challenging obstacles for educators to over­ come. Citizens unwilling to support publicly funded schools and concerned about religious domination hindered the establishment and expansion ofa public school system. Eventually, however, New Mexico achieved a system similar in many respects to other states.

Notes

1. "An Act proposing to the State of Texas the Establishment of her Northern and Western Boundaries, the Relinquishment by the said State of all Territory claimed by her exterior to said Boundaries, and of all her Claims upon the United States and to establish a territorial Government for New Mexico" (The Compromise of 1850), 9 September 1850, Statutes at Large and Treaties of the United States of America 9 (1851): 447, sec. 2, 452, sec. 15; and "An Act Establishing Common Schools in the Territory of New Mexico and Creating the Office of Superintendent of Public Instruction," Acts ofthe Legislative Assembly ofthe Territory ofNew Mexico, 1891 (Santa Fe: New Mexico Printing Co., 1891), chap. 25, sec. 3. 2. Priscilla F. Clement, Growing Pains: Children in the Industrial Age, 1850-1890 (New York: Twayne Publishers, 1997), 82-83; and Michael B. Katz, Reconstructing American Education (Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1987), 50. 3. Clement, Growing Pains, 40. 4. Katz, Reconstructing American Education, 32-37,41-49. 5. John Mathiason Matzen, State Constitutional Provisions for Education: Funda­ mental Attitude ofthe American People Regarding Education as Revealed by State Constitutional Provisions, 1776-1929 (New York: Teachers College, Columbia University, 1931), 36. 6. C[harles] E. Hodgin, Early School Laws ofNew Mexico, Educational Series, vol. 1,

no. 1, University ofNew Mexico Bulletin 41 (Albuquerque: University ofNew Mexico, 1906),2. 7. Because the Census Bureau counted Hispanics as Whites, it is not possible to identify the number of Hispanics from census data. For data on population, in­ crease over preceding census, and percentage of increase for the United States for all years, see U.S. Bureau of the Census, Thirteenth Census ofthe United States Taken in the Year 1910, vols. 1-13 (Washington, D.C.: GPO, 1912; reprint, New York: Norman Ross Publishing, 1999), 3'158. The figure cited for population in 1890 includes the population (6,689) on Indian reservations. For the number of school-age persons for 1910, see Thirteenth Census, 3'172, and for 1900, see U.S. Bureau ofthe Census, Twelfth Census ofthe United States Taken in the Year 1900, vols. 1-10 (Washington, D.C.: U.S. Census Office, 1902; reprint, New York: Norman 218 ~ NEW MEXICO HISTORICAL REVIEW VOLUME 80, NUMBER 2

Ross Publishing, 1999), 2: lxvii (includes ages 5-20); and for 1890, see Report on Population ofthe United States at the Eleventh Census: 1890 (1897; reprint, New York: Norman Ross Publishing, 1999), 2:64 (percent of those ages 6-14 attending school was 72.9). For the number attending school in 1910, see Thirteenth Census, 3:172; and for 1900, see Twelfth Census, 2:352 (includes ages 5-20); and for 1890, see Report on Population, 2:137. 8. Hodgin, Early School Laws ofNew Mexico, 20; and "To Amend an Act Approved Jan. 27, 1860, Entitled 'An Act Providing Means for the Education of Children,''' Acts of the Legislative Assembly of the Territory of New Mexico, 1863 (Santa Fe: New Mexico Printing Co., 1863), secs. 1, 7. 9. Ibid., sec. 5; and Robert A. Moyers, "A History of Education in New Mexico" (PhD diss., George Peabody College, 1941), 160. 10. Earl S. Pomeroy, The Territories of the United States, 1861-1890 (Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 1947), 35· II. Ibid., 41-42; Acting Superintendent Public Buildings, New Mexico, and Secretary of the Territory, New Mexico, William F. M. Arny to Secretary of the Interior Orville H. Browning, 15 May 1867, in U.S. Congress, House, 40th Cong., 2nd sess., 1867-1868, HED 33, "Public Buildings in New Mexico," ser. no. 1330, 9-14; and Secretary of the Territory, New Mexico, Samuel A. Losch to U.S. Secretary of the Interior Lucius Q. P. Lamar, 28 March 1885, Interior Miscellaneous Files 274, in Pomeroy, The Territories ofthe United States, 1861-189°,42.

12. Santa Fe Weekly Gazette, 21 February 1863, I. 13. Tom Wiley, Public School Education in New Mexico (Albuquerque: Division of Government Research, University of New Mexico, 1965), 25; "Memorial of the Legislature of New Mexico asking for Further Provisions by Congress for the Edu­ cation of the People of Said Territory," 34th Cong., 3rd sess., 1857, H. Misc. Doc. 40, ser. no. 911; "Memorial of the Legislature of the Territory of New Mexico ask­ ing That an Appropriation of Money for School Purposes be Made of the Six­ teenth and Thirty-Sixth Sections of Land," 39th Cong., 2nd sess., 1867, H. Misc. Doc. 66, ser. no. 1302; and "Memorial ofthe Legislature of New Mexico asking for An Appropriation for the Benefit of Schools in that Territory," 42nd Cong., 2nd sess., S. Misc. Doc. 56, ser. no. 1481. 14. "Our School System," Santa Fe Daily New Mexican, 24 December 1886, 2; "Governor's Message," Santa Fe Daily New Mexican, 27 December 1886, 3; and Paul A. F. Walter, "First Meeting of the New Mexico Educational Association," New Mexico Historical Review 2 (January 1927): 76-77. 15. "An Act Establishing Common Schools in the Territory of New Mexico and Cre­ ating the Office of Superintendent of Public Instruction," H.B. 85, 12 February 1891, Acts ofthe Legislative Assembly ofthe Territory ofNew Mexico, 1891, chap. 25, sec. 3; Howard R. Lamar, The Far Southwest, 1846-1912: A Territorial History, rev. ed. (Albuquerque: University of New Mexico Press, 2000), 163; and Robert W. Larson, New Mexico's Quest for Statehood, 1846-1912 (Albuquerque: University of New Mexico Press, 1968), 159. SPRING 2005 STERN AND CHAVEZ ~ 219

16. "An Act Establishing Common Schools in the Territory of New Mexico and Cre­ ating the Office of Superintendent of Public Instruction," H.B. 85, 12 February 1891, Acts ofthe Legislative Assembly ofthe Territory ofNew Mexico, 1891, chap. 25, secs. I, 3; Tournai ofthe First Session ofthe Legislative Assembly ofOklahoma Terri­ tory, Beginning August 17? 1890 (Guthrie: Oklahoma New Publishing Co., 1890), 697; and Laws ofthe Territory ofKansas (Lecompton, Kansas Territory: S. W. Driggs & Co., 1858), chap. 8, secs. 4-7. 17. The legislation, enacted in 1891, was in effect until 1907 when it was revised. This revised legislation was carried forward into the state statutes in 1912. Only twice did the legislature change the content required in the annual reports. In the first operationalization of the law in 1891, specific statistical data were requested and the territorial superintendent was required to submit an annual report, dated De­ cember 31, to the governor. Sixteen years later, in 1907, the annual report's submis­ sion deadline was set at August 15 and a slight modification was made to the statis­ tical data required. See "An Act to Revise and to Systematize the School Laws of the Territory ofNew Mexico, 19°7," Acts ofthe Legislative Assembly ofthe Territory ofNew Mexico, 1907 (Santa Fe: New Mexico Printing Co., 1907), chap. 97, secs. 14,24; and Laws ofthe State ofNew Mexico, 1915 (Santa Fe: New Mexico Printing Co., 1915), secs. 4825, 4838. From 1891 to 1916, the period under study, all superin­ tendents' reports were submitted to the governor. 18. "An Act Establishing Common Schools in the Territory of New Mexico and Cre­ ating the Office of Superintendent of Public Instruction," H.B. 85, 12 February 1891, Acts ofthe Legislative Assembly ofthe Territory ofNew Mexico, 1891, chap. 25, secs. 6-10; and "An Act in Relation to School Books," Acts ofthe Legislative Assem­ bly ofthe Territory ofNew Mexico, 1891, chap. 64, secs. 1-2. 19. "An Act Authorizing the Compilation, Printing and Distribution of the School Laws," Acts ofthe Legislative Assembly ofthe Territory ofNew Mexico, 1903 (Santa Fe: New Mexico Printing Co., 1903), chap. 28, secs. 1-3; and "An Act to Harmo­ nize and Strengthen the Existing School Laws, and for Other Purposes," Acts of the Legislative Assembly ofthe Territory ofNew Mexico, 1903, chap. Il9, sec. 14- 20. "An Act to Harmonize and Strengthen the Existing School Laws, and for Other Purposes," chap. Il9, sec. 18.

21. "An Act to Revise and to Systematize the School Laws of the Territory of New Mexico and for Other Purposes," Acts ofthe Legislative Assembly ofthe Territory of New Mexico, 1907, chap. 97, secs. 10-17. 22. "An Act Entitled 'An Act to Revise and Systematize the School Laws of the Terri­ tory of New Mexico and for Other Purposes,''' Acts ofthe Legislative Assembly of the Territory of New Mexico, 1909 (Santa Fe: New Mexico Printing Co., 1909), chap. 121, sec. 6. 23. The territorial superintendents' expanded duties can be found in the Acts of the Legislative Assembly ofthe Territory of New Mexico for the years 1901, 1903, 1905, 1907, and 1909. The growth of the higher education institutions can be reviewed in the territorial superintendents' annual and biennial reports (e.g., 1890, 4-15; 220? NEW MEXICO HISTORICAL REVIEW VOLUME 80, NUMBER 2

1898, 15-40; and 1911-1912, 74-82). Private and parochial school data were in­ cluded in the annual reports from 1891-1912 (e.g., 1890, 16-23; 1898, 63-70; 1911­ 1912, 107-108). 24. New Mexico Constitution, art. 5, sec. I and art. 7II, sec. 6. One exception in the statutes was the creation of the position of the state director of industrial educa­ tion, who was appointed by and reported to the state superintendent of public instruction. Laws ofthe State ofNew Mexico, 1912 (Santa Fe: New Mexico Printing Co., 1912), chap. 52, sec. 2. 25· New Mexico Constitution, art. 5, sec. 3 and art. 7, sec. 2. Although article 5 (Ex­ ecutive Department), section 3 (Eligibility), of the constitution did not refer to gender as an eligibility consideration, article 7 (Elective Franchise), section 2 (Qualifications for Public Office), specifically designated males who were U.S. citizens, legal residents of the state, and electors as qualified to hold any public office. However, women with the same qualifications were eligible to run for school­ related positions, namely, county superintendent, school director, and member of boards of education. 26. The office of attorney general and superintendent of public instruction required additional qualifications. The former was required to be a licensed attorney of the Supreme Court in New Mexico in good standing, while the latter was to be a trained and experienced educator. New Mexico Constitution, art. 5, sec. 3; and

james G. McNary, "A School Man Wanted," New Mexico Tournai ofEducation I,

no. I (January 1905): II. 27. Charles L. Burt, et aI., "A Memorial," New Mexico Tournai of Education 8, no. 2 (October 1911): 8-9. 28. Ibid.; Walter, "First Meeting of the New Mexico Educational Association," 76; and Illustrated History ofNew Mexico . .. from the Earliest Period ofIts Discovery to the Present Time, Together with . .. Biographical Mention ofMany ofits Pioneers and Prominent Citizens ofToday (Chicago: Lewis Publishing Co., 1895), 121-22. 29· New Mexico Constitution, art. 5, sec. I; and New Mexico Constitution, amend­ ment to art. 5, sec. I, 3 November 1914. 30. For examples of nomination letters, see john D. W. Veeder to Han. L. Bradford Prince, 13 February 1891 (nomination for Edward Henry), Governors Papers, L. Bradford Prince, january to April 1891, r. 108, microfilm, Territorial Archives of New Mexico, New Mexico State Records Center and Archives, Santa Fe, New Mexico [hereafter TANM/NMSRCA]; Bro. Botulph to L. B. Prince, 14 February 1891 (nomination for Larkin G. Reed), r. 108, TANM/NMSRCA; F. W. Chatfield to Governor Prince, 9 February 1891 (nomination for Edward Henry), r. 108, TANMI NMSRCA; Hiram Hadley to Governor Prince (nomination for John P. Owen), r. 108, TANM/NMSRCA; Elmore Chaves to Governor Prince, 14 February 1891, r. 108, TANM/NMSRCA; and "The First Superintendent of Education," Santa Fe Daily New Mexican, 24 February 1891, 2. 31. "The First Superintendent," Santa Fe Daily New Mexican; and "Colonel [sic] Amado Chaves Dies," Santa Fe New Mexican, 31 December 1930. SPRING 2005 STERN AND CHAVEZ? 221

32. "Vacancy is Filled," Santa Fe New Mexican, 1 December 1904, 1; "Appointment of Assistant Superintendent," Santa Fe New Mexican, 18 March 1905, 8; Amado Chaves to Hon. Herbert J. Hagerman, 15 October 1906, Records of the Territorial Gover­ nors, 1846-1912, series 11.22, Herbert J. Hagerman, 19°6-19°7, r. 162, TANMI NMSRCA; and Executive Order of George Curry, 26 March 1909, Records of the Secretary ofthe Territory, 1851-1911, series 1.2, Executive Record Books 1851-Janu­ ary 15, 1912, r. 24, TANMINMSRCA. "An Act Entitled 'An Act to Revise and Sys­ tematize the School Laws ofthe Territory ofNew Mexico and for Other Purposes,'" Acts ofthe Legislative Assembly ofthe Territory ofNew Mexico, 1909, chap. 121, sec. 4 provided for two additional members of the territorial board of education "to be citizens interested in public education who are not professional teachers." 33. "Colonel [sic] Amado Chaves Dies," Santa Fe New Mexican; Lansing B. Bloom, "Necrology, Amado Chaves," New Mexico Historical Review 6 (January 1931): 100­ 104; and S[imon] P. Nanninga, comp., Problems of Education in New Mexico: Education 107 (Albuquerque: University of New Mexico Press, 1938), 18. 34- New Mexico, Superintendent of Public Instruction (Amado Chaves), Report of the Superintendent ofPublic Instruction, 1891-1896 (Santa Fe: New Mexico Print­ ing Co., 1891-1896). Hereafter, all annual or biennial reports of the superinten­ dent of public instruction will be cited as NMSPI (superintendent's name), Re­ port, year. Annabelle M. Oczon, "Bilingual and Spanish Language Newspapers in Territorial New Mexico," New Mexico Historical Review 54 (January 1979): 51; NMSPI (Amado Chaves), Report, 1896, 6; and Lawrence A. Cremin, The Transfor­ mation ofthe School ofProgressivism in American Education, 1876-1957 (New York: Random House, 1961), 9-10. 35. NMSPI (Amado Chaves), Report, 1896, 8. 36. Ibid., 9; and "An Act to Amend Certain Provisions of the Law Relating to Public Schools," Acts ofthe Legislative Assembly ofthe Territory ofNew Mexico, 1901 (Santa Fe: New Mexico Printing Co., 1901), chap. 27, sec. 2. 37· NMSPl (Amado Chaves), Report, 1894, 7· 38. Maria E. Montoya, "L. Bradford Prince: The Education of a Gilded Age Politi­ cian," New Mexico Historical Review 66 (April 1991): 190. 39. Milton W. Calion, Las Vegas, New Mexico, The Town That Wouldn't Gamble (Las Vegas, N.M.: The Las Vegas Publishing Co., 1962), 149; Santa Fe Daily New Mexi­ can, 5 March 1897, 4; and "Governor's Appointments Confirmed," Santa Fe Daily New Mexican, 2 March 1897, 1. 40. NMSPI (Placido Sandoval), Report, 1897, 8; Territorial Board of Education Minutes, 30 August 1897, Territorial Board of Education Minute Book, March 5, 1891-December 30, 1910, Records of the Superintendent of Public Instruction, 1892-1911, p. 33, r. 72, TANMINMSRCA; and Miguel A. Otero, My Nine Years as Governor of the Territory of New Mexico, 1897-1906 (Albuquerque: University of New Mexico Press, 1940), 17,223-25,229,262-64- Otero was appointed governor on 2 June 1897 and inaugurated on 14 July 1897. 41. "Executive Order of Miguel Otero," 7 May 1898, Executive Record Books, 1882­ 1898, p. 518, r. 22, TANM/NMSRCA. 222 ~ NEW MEXICO HISTORICAL REVIEW VOLUME 80, NUMBER 2

42. New Mexico, Secretary of the Territory, Report of the Secretary of the Territory 1909-1910, and Legislative Manual, 1911 (Santa Fe: New Mexican Printing Co., 1911),2°5; Miguel Antonio Otero Personal Notebooks, vol. 1 (1897-19°1), p. 16, box 5, Miguel Antonio Otero Papers [18°97]-1938, Center for Southwest Research, Zimmerman Library, University of New Mexico, Albuquerque; "M. C. de Baca, Territorial Superintendent ofPublic Instruction," Santa Fe Daily New Mexican, 7 May 1898, 2; NMSPI (Manuel C. de Baca), Report, 1898, 6-10; and "An Act to Authorize the Territorial Board ofEducation to Issue Certificates to Normal Insti­ tute Conductors, to Harmonize the School Law and for Other Purposes," Acts of the Legislative Assembly ofthe Territory ofNew Mexico, 1905 (Santa Fe: New Mexico Printing Co., 1905), chap. 73, sec. l. 43. NMSPI 0· Francisco Chaves), Report, 1901, 18; "An Act to Harmonize and Strengthen the Existing School Laws, and for Other Purposes," Acts ofthe Legisla­ tive Assembly ofthe Territory ofNew Mexico, 1903, chap. 119, sec. 13. 44· "Escorted to His Final Resting Place," Santa Fe New Mexican, 30 November 1904, 1; and "Colonel Chavez for Superintendent of Public Instruction," Santa Fe New Mexican, 23 March 1901, l. 45. "Escorted to His Final Resting Place," Santa Fe New Mexican; New Mexico, Sec­ retary ofthe Territory, Report ofthe Secretary ofthe Territory ofNew Mexico, 1903­ 04 (Santa Fe: New Mexico Printing Co., 1904), 13-14, 157-69. Hereafter, biennial reports filed by the New Mexico territorial secretary will be cited as NMST, Re­ port, years. NMST, Report, 1901-1902, 22; NMST, Report, 19°3-19°4, 49; "By the Bullet of a Dastardly Assassin," Santa Fe New Mexican, 28 November 1904, 1; Ri­ chard Melzer, "Still a Mystery," Valencia County News-Bulletin, 13-14 November 1999, 1; and William A. Keleher, TumlOil in New Mexico, 1846-1868 (Santa Fe: Rydal Press, 1952), 48l. 46. NMSPI (J. Francisco Chaves), Report, 1901, 7. 47· Ibid., 8-10; NMSPI (J. Francisco Chaves), Report, 19°3,21,26. The seven insti­ tutions in existence in 1903 were: University of New Mexico; New Mexico College of Agriculture and Mechanic Arts (New Mexico State University); New Mexico Normal University at Las Vegas (New Mexico Highlands University); New Mexico Normal School at Silver City (Western New Mexico University); New Mexico School of Mines at Socorro (New Mexico Institute of Mining and Technology); New Mexico Asylum for the Deafand Dumb (New Mexico School for the Deaf); and New Mexico Military Institute at Roswell. 48. NMSPI (J. Francisco Chaves), Report, 19°1, 19. 49. "An Act Providing Funds and Making Appropriations for the Fifty-Seventh and Fifty-Eighth Fiscal Years and for Other Purposes" Acts ofthe Legislative Assembly ofthe Territory ofNew Mexico, 1905, chap. 112, sec. 5. 50. Cecilio Rosenwald to Miguel Otero, 8 February 1905, and R. R. Larkin to Hon. Miguel A. Otero, 4 February 1905, Governor's papers, Otero, January to April 1905, r. 136, TANM/NMSRCA; and C[harles] S. Peterson, Representative New Mexi­ cans: The National Newspaper Reference Book ofthe New State Containing Photo- SPRING 2005 STERN AND CHAVEZ ~ 223

graphs and Biographies ofover Four Hundred Men Residents ofNew Mexico, vol. 1 (Denver: Peterson Co., 1912), 124. 51. Peterson, Representative New Mexicans, vol. 1, 124; Historical Encyclopedia ofNew Mexico, ed. Ellis Arthur Davis (Albuquerque: New Mexico Historical Association, 1945), 16; Anna R. Hadley, Caroline H. AJJen, and C. Frank Allen, Hiram Hadley: March 17, 1833-December 3, 1922 (Boston: 1924), 11, 30, 31,48,49, 50. 52. The authors of Hiram Hadley attribute this quotation (pp. 48-49) to Robert Underwood Johnson, Remembered Yesterdays (Boston: Little, Brown, and Co., 1923), but we were unable to locate the quotation in this book. Hadley to Gov. Miguel A. Otero, 27 February 1905, Governor's papers, Otero, January to April 1905, r. 136, TANMINMSRCA. 53. Hiram Hadley, Circular Letter No.1, To County Superintendents of Schools and Other Active Educators in New Mexico, 1 April 1905, Record Books, March 24­ December 1905, Records ofthe Superintendent of Public Instruction, 1892-1911, r. 72, TANMINMSRCA; and "A Circular Letter to Educators," Santa Fe New Mexi­ can, 4 April 1905, 2. 54. NMSPI (Hiram Hadley), Circular Letter, Report, 1905, 10; NMSPI (Manuel C. de Baca), Report, 1898, 10; and "An Act to Revise and to Systematize the School Laws of the Territory of New Mexico and for Other Purposes," Acts ofthe Legislative Assembly ofthe Territory ofNew Mexico, 1907, chap. 97, sec. 6. 55· Hadley to Teachers in New Mexico, 15 May 1905, Record Books, March 24­ December 1905, Records of the Superintendent of Public Instruction, 1892-19il, r. 72, TANMINMSRCA. 56. NMSPI (Hiram Hadley), Report, 1905, 9, 46; NMSPI (Hiram Hadley), Report, 1906, 12; and NMSPI (James Clark), Report, 1909-1910, 28. 57· "Memorial Service for Hiram Hadley," New Mexico School Review 2, no. 4 (De­ cember 1922 ): 7. 58. Hagerman, Executive Order, 22 December 1906; Clark to Hagerman, 22 Decem­ ber 1906; and Hagerman, Executive Order, 19 February 1906, Governor's papers, Hagerman, Appointments, Reports, r. 162, TANMINMSRCA; and "Educational News," New Mexico Journal ofEducation 3, no. 3 (February 1907): 2. 59. "House Tables Big Tax Bill," Santa Fe New Mexican, 6 March 1907, 1; and Peterson, Representative New Mexicans, vol. 1, 54. 60. Hagerman, Executive Order, 22 December 1906; "House Tables Big Tax Bill," Santa Fe New Mexican; and [George] Curry, "Executive Order," 13 March 1909, Executive Record Books, 19°7-1912, p. 188, r. 24, TANMINMSRCA. 61. NMSPI (James Clark), Reports, 1907-1908, 18-20; NMSPI (James Clark), Reports,

1909-1910, 32-34. 62. NMSPI (James Clark), Reports, 1907-1908, 18-20. 63. Ibid. 64- George Curry, George Curry, 1861-1947, An Autobiography, ed. H. B. Hening (Albuquerque: University of New Mexico Press, 1958), 256, 258, 260, 262. 65. Prior to the Republican State Convention in September 1911, the Santa Fe New Mexican supported Clark for the Republican nomination. "On Eve ofRepublican 224 ~ NEW MEXICO HISTORICAL REVIEW VOLUME 80, NUMBER 2

State Convention," Santa Fe New Mexican, 27 September 1911, 3. Three days later the newspaper expressed surprise that Clark did not win. In the nomination pro­ cess, Bernalillo County's delegate offered Andrew Stroup. The other counties' delegates, including Santa Fe's, passed on any nominations, and Stroup was nomi­ nated by acclamation. "Republican Convention Adjourns After Naming Strong Ticket," Santa Fe New Mexican, 30 September 1911, 1; "Candidates on the Repub­ lican Ticket," Santa Fe New Mexican, 16 October 1911, 3; and "Republicans After All Night Session Complete State Ticket Nominations," The Albuquerque Morn­ ing Journal, 30 September 1911, 1. 66. "J. E. Clark for Superintendent," Santa Fe New Mexican, 16 May 1912. No candi­ date received a majority, and White's plurality was only lll. The New Mexico Constitution, art. 7, sec. 5, states that, in all elections, the person who received the highest number of votes for any office was elected to that office. The constitution also mandated that the first state officers would hold office until 1 January 1917. The five-year term resulted from the uncertainty surrounding the date of the first state election - November 1911 or November 1912. Charles Coan, A History ofNew Mexico (Chicago: The American Historical Society, 1925), 496. 67. Santa Fe New Mexican, 7 March 1912, 2; "Necrology: Alvan Newton White," New Mexico Historical Review 20, no. 3 (July 1945): 269-7°; and Antonio Lucero, The New Mexico Bluebook, 1917 (Santa Fe: Santa Fe Printing Co., 1917),224. 68. NMSPI (Alvan White), Biennial Report, 1910-1911 and 1911-1912, 24; and Alvan White, Report of the State Superintendent of Public Instruction for the Biennial Period Ending November 30, 1916, 1-6. 69. "Alvan N. White Announces Candidacy for Re-Election," Santa Fe New Mexican, 15 August 1916, 3; "Democrats are Now Wondering Just How Good the Ticket Is," The Albuquerque Morning Journal, 3 September 1916, 1; and "Necrology: Alvan Newton White," 270. 70. Beginning in 1891 and continuing throughout this quarter century, legislation gave the superintendents latitude to add what they desired to information re­ quired by law. Annual reports were prepared and submitted by territorial super­ intendents from 1891 to 1906. Thereafter, from 1907 to 1911, annual reports were combined into biennial publications and published in 1909 and 1911. The 1900 and 1902 annual reports are not extant. During statehood reports were also sub­ mitted biennially. 71. New Mexico Constitution, art. 12, sec. 6A. Book Reviews

Gardens of New Spain: How Medi~erranean Plants and Foods Changed America. By William W. Dunmire. (Austin: University ofTexas Press, 2004­ xviii + 375 pp. Halftones, maps, tables, bibliography, index. $65.00 cloth, ISBN 0-292-70271-X, $24.95 paper, ISBN 0-292-7°564-6.)

In this gem, William W. Dunmire engagingly synthesizes the historical background, routes, timing, and profound effects ofthe Columbian Exchange as explorers and colonists intentionally intermixed useful plants of the Old World with those ofthe New World. He dedicates the book to Gail D. Tierney, who started this project and collaborated with him through its development. The heart of the book is a balanced and deeply researched history of the entry andspread ofMediterranean cultivated plants into the American South­ west during Spanish colonial times. Much of this knowledge derives from historical documents such as daily diaries. The story begins in Medieval Spain, where diverse groups were already sharing domesticated plants, ani­ mals, and technologies among themselves. To introduce the receptive New World audience, Dunmire sketches pre­ Columbian farming in Mexico, where crops included corn, beans, squash, chili, and maguey (agave). Here, all agricultural work was done by hand, with simple tools like digging sticks. When the Spanish brought metal, plows, and draft animals (natural producers of fertilizer), the face of New World agriculture changed. Farmers such as the Raramuri (Tarahumara) could now grow crops in fields naturally lacking nutrients and use the steel­ tipped plow pulled by horses to open up larger corn and bean fields. For over 3,000 years, people in the American Southwest and northern Mexico have grown corn. Agricultural sophistication is revealed by many examples, including early evidence of canal irrigation, rock-bordered gar- dens, and rain-fed farming. Even today, Hopi· farmer Eric Polingyouma harvests corn ears up to sixteen inches long using traditional methods (p. 225 74)' Groups have long gathered many "weeds" such as goosefoot, amaranth, 226 + NEW MEXICO HISTORICAL RE'VIEW VOLUME 80, NUMBER 2 and purslane-plants often considered a great bother-for both their leafy greens and edible seeds. Remaining chapters cover the transfer of plants, technology, and live­ stock to the New World, as well as the spread of these new materials and practices throughout northern Mexico, the American Southwest, and into Texas, Florida, and California. Each chapter is well illustrated with maps, photos, and drawings, and ends with brief but thorough discussions of the botany, known domestication history, travels, uses, and nutrition of numer­ ous individual plants. Dunmire provides primary references in a sources section, a ten-page "Master Plant List" with critical condensed data, a glos­ sary, and a selected bibliography. His interviews with traditional, rural His­ panics still using these plants form a fitting epilogue. Carl O. Sauer, an extraordinary cultural geographer and one ofDunmire's professors, would be pleased to know his legacy continues. This scholarly document will be as enduring as the plants upon which it focuses and will reach a wide public audience because of its writing style. When people travel to a new home, they bring with them their treasured goods and the desire to retain access to favored and familiar foods and flavors. This human habit fostered the integration ofOld World foods into a New World cuisine, resulting in the incredible range of food choices we have today. Dunmire has given us the tools to sit down to a meal and know something about the integration ofcultures, continents, and historical adventures ofall the plant ingredients on our plate. Armed with this knowledge, dinner conversations may take on a whole new dimension and never be quite the same again.

Karen R. Adams Cortez, Colorado

Old Las Vegas: Hispanic Memories from the New Mexico Meadowlands. Col­ lected and translated by Nasario Garda. (Lubbock: Texas Tech University Press, 2005. xiv + 302 pp. Halftones, glossary, index. $34-95 cloth, ISBN 0-89672-1.)

Old Las Vegas is a veritable buffet of reminiscences of the viejitos and viejitas ofthe countryside around Las Vegas, New Mexico. Nasario Garda set out to collect and "share the fast-disappearing old-timers' reminiscences" (p. 1), and he has succeeded admirably. A folklorist, Garda knows the value of oral history and how to conduct interviews to gain the most from his informants. SPRING 2005 BOOK REVIEWS? 227

The result is a collection of memories from the Hispanic community that enriches our understanding ofthe culture of northern New Mexico. Carda and his editor made several significant decisions, the most valu­ able being to publish all the memories in both Spanish and English. Most of the interviews were conducted in Spanish; transcribing and translating was a laborious process but one oflove. Thus, the reader can enjoy the old Spanish dialect from the Las Vegas meadowlands, and the English version helps those whose Spanish is weak. A historical introduction traces the history of Las Vegas and its hinter­ lands from the Spanish explorers to twenty-first century visitors. This sketch lays the groundwork for understanding the role the Spanish played and con­ tinue to play in the area. Each section also has an introduction to the sub­ ject and to some of the old-timers. Subjects range from "Life in the Countryside" to education, folk healing, witchcraft, religious ceremonies .and customs, and politics. Particularly intriguing is the section on religious ceremonies and customs. In the past, Catholic religious practices were part of the daily routine for the Hispanic villagers, and the old-timers now miss that part of their lives. In one village, weddings could be held only at 6:00 a.m. mass on Mondays! For those villagers, weddings began on Friday and ended on Wednesday. The final chapter is a compilation ofdichos (sayings) and adivinanzas (riddles), which gives the book a special charm. A glossary, briefbiographies ofthe interviewees, a short reading list, and an index com­ plete the work. Old Las Vegas is another outstanding contribution to the folklore and history ofHispanic New Mexico and to the fine list ofpublications by Nasario Carda.

Jo Tice Bloom Las Cruces, New Mexico

Juan Bautista de Anza: Basque Explorer in the New World. By Donald T. Carate. The Basque Series. (Reno: University ofNevada Press, 2003. xxi + 323 pp. Halftones, maps, charts, appendix, notes, glossary, bibliography, index.

$39·95 cloth, ISBN 0-87417-5°5-4.)

Had Apaches not killed him at age forty-six, Juan Bautista de Anza (1693-174°) would likely have been the ranking statesman of Sonora, in 228 ~ NEW MEXICO HISTORICAL REVIEW VOLUME SO, NUMBER 2 his mid-seventies, when Jose de Calvez began shaking things up on New Spain's far northwestern frontier. How the elder Anza, alive, might have affected the career of his son and namesake (1736-1788) is anyone's guess. Here, Donald T. Carate offers not guesses but the "the story, plain and simple" (p. xix) of the father. Since 1990, Carate has served as historian at Tumacacori National His­ torical Park in southern Arizona, where both Anzas left their marks. A born storyteller and keen researcher, the author also shares the Basque heritage ofhis subjects. He knows their difficult tongue, making the point repeatedly that both Anzas had to learn Spanish as a second language. The book's glossary includes Indian, Spanish, and Basque words. Carate has traveled and stood where the Anzas did and excels at setting the scene. Carate trans­ ports the reader to the bustling crossroads town of Hernani, birthplace of Juan the elder, in the Basque country ofnortheastern Spain. We witness the intricate, spit-and-polish inspection at Janos years later in April 1723, and then, from the elevated site ofAnza's post at Fronteras, the reader wonders at the endlessness of the Sonoran Desert. The author makes fitting use ofeducated conjecture and occasional his­ torical reconstruction. He knows the day of the week and the phases of the moon. Carate knows Basques intimately, assuring us in a note that "this information comes from personal experience gained by the author over many years ofassociation with his own and other Basque families in both the New World and the Old" (p. 241). He dares impart feelings to his subject. "Anza could not have helped but gloat a little as each man rode up to pass in review" (p. 100). While the conversation between Agustin de Campos and Anza may never have occured, every word uttered by Campos is from the old priest's letters. Ifyou doubt it, check the endnotes. Each ofCarate's six chapters averages 139 notes, citing mostly primary sources, giving credit to others, and critiquing the works offellow scholars (including me). Not long ago, when I told Carate I was writing a short piece on the Anzas, he gener­ ously sent me in electronic form the entire manuscript of this book. Sonora's near civil war ofthe 1720S, which pit the tight alliance ofJesuits and other Basques against outsiders, will remind readers of nineteenth­ century New Mexico's Santa Fe Ring and Lincoln CountyWar. Here, Carate tests his evenhandedness, characterizing the combatants as "Anza and his belligerent Basque contingent" and "Don Cregorio's licensed hooligans" (p. 78). Elsewhere, unscripted dramas like the 1736 Planchas de Plata silver SPRING 2005 BOOK R EVI EWS ? 229 strike and the epiphany of false prophet Agustin Aschuhuli come alive as never before. Been in touch with Robert Redford yet, Don?

John L. Kessell University ofNew Mexico

Navajo Blessingway Singer: The Autobiography of Frank Mitchell, 1881­ 1967. Edited by Charlotte J. Frisbie and David P. McAlIester. (1978; reprint; Albuquerque: University of New Mexico Press, 2003. xxvi + 446 pp. Half­ tones, maps, appendixes, notes, bibliography, index. $34.95 paper, ISBN 0-826n181-5·)

Born thirteen years after the Dine returned to Navajo land in 1868, Frank Mitchell relates his life story in Navajo Blessingway Singer. While Mitchell's story delineates the many hardships that Navajos endured upon their return from the Bosque Redondo prison camp, it is also inspirational. Mitchell carved out a life of prosperity and wealth, becoming a Blessingway singer, serving in leadership roles within his community, and raising a family. In recounting his life story, Mitchell emphasizes the importance of Navajo traditional teachings in his endeavors to follow Hozhojii (the path to well­ being and happiness). Mitchell skips over much of his childhood, terming it "an ugly story," and goes on to recall his experiences in boarding school, employment on . the railroad, and involvement in Navajo political affairs. In his marriage to Tall Woman (Rose Mitchell), he worked hard to support his family. His efforts illuminate the struggle of young Navajo men to create a place for themselves in a changed Navajo society. Under the guidance of other men, including his father-in-law, Mitchell realized that, to live well, he had to follow the ancient teachings that his ancestors had relied on for survival and continuity. He also discovered that traditional narratives were the founda­ tion for political, economic, and social institutions. Perhaps in an effort to convey the value of oral tradition to future Navajo generations, Mitchell dictated his stories to anthropologist Charlotte J. Frisbie and ethnomusic­ ologist David P. McAllester. Mitchell's narrative provides insights into Navajos' relationship to fed­ eral Indian policies and illuminates their responses to the impositions that have altered their lives, including the introduction ofa wage economy after 230? NEW MEXICO HISTORICAL REVIEW VOLUME 80, NUMBER 2 livestock reduction, the implementation of mandated education for chil­ dren, and the appearance ofChristianity, particularly through the Catholic priests. Navajos sought to keep control over their lives and were not unwill­ ing to challenge federal officials or the Franciscans when it was necessary. For example, his story about the struggle between Black Horse and agent Shipley over forced education for Navajo children portrays Navajo opposi­ tion vividly, demonstrating that leaders were willing to go to jail, ifnot worse. His story also gives insight into how decisions were made among Navajos; for example, the decision to oppose the Indian agent was a communal one. Black Horse was noted for being outspoken, so he was selected to voice Navajo opposition. In another story, Mitchell notes that the Navajos accepted and allowed the Franciscans at St. Michael's Mission near present­ day Window Rock, Arizona, to proselytize as long as they provided other services and were respectful. Narratives like Mitchell's demonstrate the range of Navajo responses to colonialism, from incorporation to outright resistance. Editors Frisbie and McAllester provide a comprehensive annotation of Mitchell's autobiography, which by itself, is a valuable resource that incor­ porates oral history, anthropology, and history. In its second printing, Frank Mitchell's life story remains a valuable contribution to Navajo studies. Frisbie also worked with Frank's wife and published Tall Woman: The Life Story of Rose Mitchell, A Navajo Woman, c. 1874-]977 in 2001. Tall Woman pro­ vides a parallel to Frank's account, with insight on Navajo women's lives in the twentieth century.

Jennifer Denetdale University ofNew Mexico

The Diaries ofJohn Gregory Bourke, Vol. 1: November 20, 1872 to July 28,1876. Edited and annotated by Charles M. Robinson III. (Denton: University of North Texas Press, 2003. ix + 518 pp. Halftones, maps, appendixes, notes, bibliography, index. $49.95 cloth, ISBN 1-57441-161-6.)

The subject of the U.S. government's relations with Native Americans remains one of the most widely researched in the study of the American West. In part, this interest is promoted by the existence ofnumerous diaries, journals, and memoirs ofsoldiers who participated in conflicts with Native Americans. Of all such contemporary writings, the most extensive set of SPRING 2005 BOOK REVIEWS? 231 diaries-those ofJohn Gregory Bourke-have remained unpublished. This omission is now being rectified. Charles M. Robinson III, an instructor in history at South Texas Community College, McAllen, presents the first in­ stallment ofthe projected six volumes ofBourke's diaries. Robinson's works concerning the American West are well known, including A Good Year to Die: The Story ofthe Great Sioux War (1995); The Men Who Wear the Star: The Story ofthe Texas Rangers (2000); and General Croo,k and the Western Frontier (2001). Bourke was born in 1846 to well-educated Irish immigrants in Philadel­ phia. His parents saw to his training in both Roman Catholicism and the classics. After serving in the Union Army, Bourke attended the U.S. Mili­ tary Academy, graduated in 1869, and was posted to the Southwest. About this time, he began a diary which he kept faithfully until a few days before his death in 1896. For much of his professional career, Bourke served as aide-de-camp to Brig. Gen. George Crook, perhaps the U.S. Army's most able Indian fighter. While several of the earliest notebooks have been lost, volume one consists of Bourke's observations of Crook's campaigns against the Apaches in Arizona (1872-1875) and, after Crook became commander of the Department ofthe Platte, against the Sioux (1875-1876). Even in the midst of a campaign, Bourke made detailed scientific observations of all that he saw-especially in the field of ethnography. Bourke was a firm be­ liever in "the manifest destiny of the [white] race," and he had little pa­ tience with the stubborn resistance of Native Americans (p. 330). However, he cultivated an interest in Native American culture, and eventually arrived at a more moderate view. Bourke was a dedicated observer and fervent re­ corder. "Ifhe ran out ofspace in one notebook, he immediately would start another," writes Robinson, "sometimes in mid-sentence" (p. 7). Indeed, Bourke's zeal to write down everything he saw led him to record facts that may appear very tiring and ephemeral to the modern reader. In order to include all of Bourke's written matter within the allotted six volumes, Robinson has omitted most maps, terrain sketches, official docu­ ments, and newspaper clippings, unless of "particular value to the text" (p. 11). He has included select official documents in an appendix. In order to make the text more readable, he has also spelled out abbreviations, inserted appropriate punctuation, provided annotations, and deleted underlining from Bourke's original journal. The editor has also added a useful introduc­ tion to each major part of this volume. 232 ~ NEW MEXICO HISTORICAL REVIEW VOLUME 80, NUMBER 2

While the demands ofspace are understandable, the omission ofso much of the diary's content is regrettable. Some researchers will still have to con­ sult the originals at the U.S. Military Academy or seek out the microfilmed (and photostatic) copies at the Center for Southwest Research at the Uni­ versity of New Mexico. Nonetheless, the publication of John Gregory Bourke's diary constitutes an important contribution to the study of the American West. Charles Robinson III and the University of North Texas Press are to be congratulated for undertaking such a large project.

Larry D. Ball Arkansas State University

Hermanitos, Comanchitos: Indo-Hispano Rituals ofCaptivity and Redemp­ tion. By Enrique R. Lamadrid, photographs by Miguel A. Gandert. Paso por Aquf Series. (Albuquerque: University of New Mexico Press, 2003. xv + 264 pp. 78 halftones, maps, CD-Rom, appendixes, notes, index. $45.00 cloth, ISBN 0-8263-2877-6, $27.95 paper, ISBN 0-8263-2878-4.)

Eighteenth-century New Mexico was shaped in large part by interactions among Pueblo people, Hispanic settlers and soldiers, and the Comanche bands who resided on the eastern and northeastern borders ofthe Rio Grande settle­ ments. Comanches seem to have made their first appearance in New Mexico at the 1706 Taos Trade Fair. From then until Gov. Juan Bautista de Anza signed a peace treaty with many ofthe Comanche bands in 1786, the century was wrought with alternating trading and raiding between New Mexican and Comanche peoples. To this day, Comanches occupy a powerful place in New Mexico folklore, dramatic narratives, and folk songs. Enrique Lamadrid and Miguel Gandert have long collaborated on docu­ menting the folk plays and musical traditions of rwrthern New Mexico. In this latest publication, they present the history, music, and narratives of Comanche folk tradition that are part of the ritual cycle and folk plays centered primarily in the Taos and Espanola Valley villages. Gandert's photographs do not merely illustrate the text; they provide a powerful vi­ sual record of the folkloric complex and performatory culture of the Comanche traditions. The compact disc included with the book contains twenty-six tracks recorded by Lamadrid in the villages where he and Gandert worked. Lamadrid also transcribes and translates the text of Comanche folk narratives. SPRING 2005 BOOK REVIEWS + 233

For many visitors and residents of New Mexico, the Comanche dances performed in Hispanic villages are a confusing set of visual and cultural images. The dancers do not "look like Indians," at least not like the familiar Pueblo dancers. The plazas ofTalpa, Ranchos de Taos, Alcalde, Chimayo, and Bernalillo-well-known to many-seem like strange terrain when danc­ ers in Plains Indian costumes dance and orate long stories to simple drum beats. Lamadrid relates his own initial confusion about the meaning ofthe Comanche narrative he was given by a family member in 1973. The Comanche dances and narratives are not a case of mistaken iden­ tity, nor of Hispano villagers "playing Indian." They are evidence of cul­ tural fusion and permeable social boundaries that anthropologists and social historians refer to as "cultural hybridity." Lamadrid and Gandert have boldly explored one ofthe sustaining cultural myths ofNew Mexico history. New Mexico was not "Spain on the Rio Grande." New Mexico, like Mexico, was a mestizo culture, born of the fusion of Spanish, Mexican, and indig­ enous traditions. This mix was furthered by the arrival ofthe multicultural Americanos. Hermanitos, Comanchitos is an important book for understanding the sometimes contentious history of New Mexico. The analysis of songs and narratives explores themes of permeable social boundaries, the construc­ tionofsocial memory, and the redemption ofsocial identity. I only wish the volume was larger in format to handle more expressively the reproduction of Gandert's dynamic photographs of the dance. Perhaps a film could be the next venture for Lamadrid's outstanding linguistic and social scholar­ ship and Gandert's sensitive portraiture.

Frances Levine Palace ofthe Governors Santa Fe, New Mexico

EI Cerrito, New Mexico: Eight Generations in a Spanish Village. By Richard L. Nostrand. (Norman: University ofOklahoma Press, 2003. xviii + 267 pp. 56 halftones, line drawings, 27 maps, tables, appendix, notes, glossary, bibli­ ography, index. $39.95 cloth, ISBN 0-8061-3546-8.)

El Cerrito is one ofNew Mexico's most studied villages. Scholarly inter­ est stems from it being an isolated micro-village situated on the San Miguel 234 ~ NEW MEXICO HISTORICAL REVIEW VOLUME 80, NUMBER 2 del Vado Land Grant and its late, but limited, Anglo influence. Historical geographer Richard L. Nostrand lists sixteen prior studies, including the seminal work ofOlen Leonard and Charles Loomis and the poignant pho­ tographic essay by Irving Rusinow done in the 1940s. Nostrand's thorough­ ness is .illustrated by the inclusion of far more information in EI Cerrito, New Mexico than these previous works. Many of New Mexico's historical villages ceased to exist due to adverse economic conditions. Later, some villages were repopulated as jobs became available closer to home. While El Cerrito has continued to survive, its population has dwindled. It reached its peak in 1900 when the population numbered 136 individuals representing thirty families. By 2000 the popula­ tion numbered twenty-two persons in eleven households, with very few of these individuals representing the original settlers. El Cerrito, then, serves as a prototype for the study of the villages of New Mexico. Nostrand explores themes of the geography of area; the construction of the settlement (1825); the subsistence farming essential to survival (1850); the entrance ofa few ofthe families in the more profitable business oflive­ stock raising (1875); the irony of the grantees homesteading their own land grant after they had lost their commons (1900); and by 1925 the necessity of having to learn English in order to get jobs outside the village. Unemploy­ ment led to an exodus during the 1950S of most of the inhabitants who settled permanently in more urban areas where employment was available. The author uses an individual to represent a separate generation within each chapter. However, I am not sure that this technique works. Before long many other members from one generation enter the picture and one has to constantly refer to the family tables to avoid confusion. The twenty-seven maps and thirty-six tables provided are extremely helpful in giving the reader a clear understanding ofthe setting and development of the village. The appendix, which includes every census ever taken of El Cerrito, is a genealogist's dream. The value ofthe book lies in its comprehensive chronicling ofthe village's history and cultural change. It complements the author's earlier book, The Hispano Homeland, which dealt with the broader subject of Hispanos in northern New Mexico and southern Colorado. In the final chapter the author offers some valuable suggestions on how El Cerrito can serve as "a window on the past" (p. 171). However, given the politics involved in historic preservation efforts, particularly when the SPRING 2005 BOOK REVIEWS ~ 235

site has multiple ownerships, it may not be possible to implement true historic preservation. Ifso, let this excellent book serve as a testimonial to El Cerrito's past.

Adridn Bustamante Santa Fe, New Mexico

Las Tejanas: 300 Years ofHistory. By Teresa Palomo Acosta and Ruthe Wine­ garten, foreword by Cynthia E. Orozco. Jack and Doris Smothers Series in Texas History, Life, and Culture, no. 10. (Austin: University ofTexas Press, xvii + 436 pp. 143 halftones, tables, appendixes, notes, bibliography, index. $45.00 cloth, ISBN 0-292-74710-1, $22.95 paper, ISBN 0-292-7°527-1.)

Las Tejanas is the first book-length study examining the historical and contemporary experiences of women of Mexican descent in Texas. The book's purpose is to recover and celebrate the lives of women who have: been overlooked, forgotten, and more often ignored in textbooks in particu­ lar and in the public consciousness in general. The authors' goal is to high­ light Texas Mexican women's achievements in the face of gender, ·racial, ethnic, and class struggle and oppression from the 1700S to the present day. Las Tejanas is largely an interpretive history that draws from the most recent literature and resources on Tejana/o history, most notably the New Handbook ofTexas History, published in 1996 by the Texas State Historical Association. As the authors admit, Las Tejanas lacks "a theoretical analysis" (p. xv), yet it has a clearly defined purpose: to give agency to Texas Mexican women, a significant sector of the Texas and Texas Mexican population. The book is arranged chronologically and thematically, exploring the vary­ ing experiences of Native, mestiza, and Hispanic women under Spanish, Mexican, and then American rule. The first three chapters focus on the pre-twentieth century period, examining women's social, legal, and eco­ nomic status in the often violent and turbulent Spanish Colonial (1700­ 1821), Mexican (1821-1848), and early American (1848-19°0) eras. The remainder of the book-chapters four"through twelve-explores Tejanas' participation in key arenas of Tejana/o life. Chapters four through six de­ scribe women's experiences in the Mexican Revolution of 1910, self-help organizations (mutualistas), and the workforce, both in rural and urban set­ tings. Chapters seven through twelve pay attention to women's achievements 236 ~ NEW MEXICO HISTORICAL REVIEW VOLUME 80, NUMBER 2 in education, business and professional life, religious and community orga­ nizations, the Chicano movement, politics and public office, and in the arts and culture. The publication of Las Tejanas represents a significant milestone in the fields of Chicana/o history, the American West, and Spanish Borderlands, for no monograph or interpretive study on Texas Mexican women has been published to date, despite the growing body ofliterature on women ofMexi­ can descent in New Mexico, California, and other former SpanishlMexi­ can territories in the present-day Southwest. Perhaps the book's greatest contribution is that it is a significant step in the writing of Tejana history, which takes into account Tejanas' important and multiple roles at the local, state, and national levels. This book serves best as a resource for scholars, students, and readers interested in a general and up-to-date survey on Tejana (and Tejano) his­ tory, and not for those interested in a comparative or broader study on women ofMexican descent in the Southwest. Some readers may find that, at times, the book lapses into the tradition of "women worthies," particularly the fi­ nal two chapters, and neglects to give fuller attention to women's particular issues and to comparative experiences. In fairness, as the authors state, their intent was not to write a complete history ofTejanas-a task nearly impos­ sible to do in three-hundred pages, but rather to inspire scholars, young and old alike, to explore in greater detail the lives ofwomen that they covered in a general manner.

Miroslava Chavez-Garda University ofCalifamia, Davis

Felix Longoria's Wake: Bereavement, Racism, and the Rise ofMexican Ameri­ can Activism. By Patrick J. Carroll. (Austin: University ofTexas Press, 2003. 270 pp. 22 halftones, map, line drawing, tables. $45.00 cloth, ISBN 0-292-71246-4, $19.95 paper, ISBN 0-292-71249-9.)

Only a small portion of this study deals with the story of Felix Longoria, a young Mexican American soldier killed in action on 16 June 1945 at Luzon. His remains were initially buried in the Philippines but eventually the U.S. Army returned them in January of 1949 to the United States, where they were interred one month later at Arlington National Cemetery. The book serves as more an assessment of how this one-month episode upset tradi- SPRING 2005 BOOK REVI EWS ~ 237 tional Mexican-Anglo relations in Texas. Just as important, Patrick J. Carroll shows how the "Mexican American" era of civil rights benefited from this episode. The term is applied to the period from the 1930S to the 195os, when ethnic Mexican leaders in the United States demanded constitutional rights and acceptance as citizens. Late in 1948, the U.S. Army informed Felix Longoria's widow that her husband's remains would be returned to Texas. While the family knew Felix's fate, as the military immediately sent them the medals earned by the soldier including the Bronze Star, the news came as a surprise. The widow, Beatrice Moreno de Longoria, hurriedly arranged for funeral services in Three Riv­ ers, Longoria's hometown. Thomas Kennedy, a veteran and newcomer to Texas who had recently purchased the town's only funeral home, agreed to bury the soldier in the Mexican cemetery. He denied, however, the use ofhis chapel for the wake, assessing correctly that local Whites would be offended. Instead he offered to conduct a private wake at a family member's home. Beatrice Moreno de Longoria, hurt and confused, turned to other family members who in turn contacted Dr. Hector Garda, a former army medical officer who also served in the war. The doctor had recently helped found the American G.1. Forum in Corpus Christi, precisely to deal with the many humiliating incidents that returning Mexican American ~eterans faced in Texas. After energetically publicizing the incident, Garda obtained sup­ port from Lyndon Baines Johnson, then newly elected to the Senate from Texas. With much fanfare, the senator arranged to have Longoria's remains buried at Arlington on 16 February 1949. In the meantime, public opinion at the international level and even in Texas turned against Three Rivers because of the degrading treatment suf­ fered by the family of a decorated veteran. Kennedy then claimed his ac­ tions stemmed from the possibility ofviolence at the wake; Beatrice and her deceased husband's family were estranged. Eventually, Kennedy and politi­ cal leaders in Three Rivers relented and offered to provide full services. By then, Garda and Senator Johnson were intent on going through with the plans for the Arlington burial. Ironically greater political gains could be made by both Johnson and the cause ofMexican American civil rights if the original rejection stood. Carroll analytically attacks the phenomenon by employing an arsenal of possible theoretical paradigms-psychological, Marxist, postmodern, to name but a few. In the process, Carroll places Texas history and the main actors - Beatrice Longoria, Hector Garda, Thomas Kennedy, and Lyndon 238 + NEW MEXICO HISTORICAL REVIEW VOLUME 80, NUMBER 2

Baines Johnson- under a microscopic lens. But while the myriad of theo­ ries offered by the author certainly help us to understand the 'wider con­ struct of Mexican-Anglo relations in Texas, they are not always cogently connected to the single Longoria episode. Nonetheless, the work goes a long way in explaining how and why the occurrence became such a cause celebre and a battering ram for Mexican American civil rights. Generally, Mexican American leaders used participation in the war as crucial leverage to obtain their goals.

F. Arturo Rosales Arizona State University

The Mexico Reader: History, Culture, Politics. Edited by Gilbert M. Joseph and Timothey J. Henderson. The Latin American Reader Series. (Durham, N.C.: Duke University Press, 2003· xiv + 792 pp. 91 halftones, map, notes, bibliography, index. $24.95 paper, ISBN 0-8223-3042-3.)

Gil Joseph and Tim Henderson must be commended for tackling the onerous task ofcompiling a reader entirely devoted to Mexico. In the vein ofprevious readers in the series, The Mexico Reader presents a diverse, origi­ nal, and rare collection ofprimary and secondary texts. Weighing in at just under three pounds, the reader is a large and impressive volume of docu­ ments providing ample discussion material for anyone interested in specific chapters of Mexico's history. The Mexico Reader is divided into nine parts and covers the colonial period through the very recent modern period. The first section is perhaps the most original for a reader ofthis kind, addressing not a specific historical period, but rather the theme of"Lo Mexicano." The section thankfully does not attempt to define what makes Mexicans Mexican, but presents a few key texts that reflect on the cultural, intellectual, and psychological nature of Mexico's people. The second section, "Ancient Civilizations," is a quick overview of the pre-Columbian period. Two secondary texts and three excerpts from cod­ ices are presented as a backdrop to the glory of civilizations past to which some of the texts in the "Lo Mexicano" section refer. The reader addresses the conquest and colonial period in the third section, using excerpts from primary sources such as Bernal Diaz's accounts and Sor Juana's poetry, as well as J. H. Eliot and Enrique Florescano's secondary texts, which put the SPRING 2005 BOOK REVIEWS? 239

primary sources in context. The fourth section on the independent period provides more documentary evidence than the previous sections, and will make a useful addition to any class on Mexico's nineteenth century. Texts such as Jose Marfa Morelos' "Sentiment of a Nation," Fanny Calderon de la Barca's epistolary thoughts on Mexican women, a desperate letter from Em­ press Carlotta to her sister, and an excerpt from B. Traven's historical fiction novels, serve as eclectic documentary sources for an eclectic century. Nestled between the nineteenth-century texts and the revolutionary texts is an awkward photography section. The section reproduces classic photo­ graphs such as Zapatistas breakfasting at Sanborn's in 1914 and a very inter- . esting wider shot of the well-known picture of a soldadera riding a revolutionary train. It also includes pictures from the 1940s, 1950s, and 1960s and an impressive photograph of the Tlatelolco plaza after the 1985 earth­ quake. This section induces readers to interpret this newer medium, but unfortunately, the layout of the pictures and the print quality of the paper does not do justice to this intention. The layout is organized in no specific thematic or chronological order, and the small scale of the pictures and matt paper on which they are reprinted will make it difficult for students to use or analyze in any depth. The last four sections ofthe reader more than make up for the drawbacks of the photography section. These sections address the modern period of Mexico's history, starting with the Mexican Revolution. The texts chosen exemplify not only the revolutionary ideals, but the focus of the historical interest in the period. Texts from Ricardo Flores Mag6n, excerpts ofarticles 27 and 123 of the 1917 constitution, and a speech by Plutarco Elfas Calles overlap with a unique version ofa revolutionary song and a poem in honor ofCuauhtemoc Cardenas. The reflection ofboth the political and the cul­ tural context ofMexico's history is further illustrated in the reader's approach to an oft forgotten part of the Mexican historical record: the conflict be­ tween state and church is elegantly rendered with a folk song in honor ofa victim of the Crist~ro Rebellion. The lastsections address thematic contexts related to the postrevolutionary state and society. Entitled 'The Perils of Modernity," "From the Ruins," and "The Border and Beyond," respectively, these provide rich texts with which to assess the last fifty years of Mexic

Juliette Levy University ofCalifornia, Riverside

Work, Protest, and Identity in Twentieth-Century Latin America. Edited by Vincent C. Peloso. Jaguar Books on Latin America, no. 26 (Wilmington, Del.: Scholarly Resources, 2003. xx + 348 pp. Map, tables, notes, bibliogra­ phy. $23.95 paper, ISBN 0-842°-2927-3.)

Not much is original in this volume. Eleven of its fifteen chapters have been previously published as journal articles. The chapters therefore are stand-alone pieces that do not dialogue with each other-a shortcoming accentuated by the lack of a thematic index. The editor, nonetheless, has provided a valuable service by compiling these pieces in a single volume and highlighting recurrent themes in the introduction and chapter abstracts. In its geographical scope, the collection transcends the usual concentra­ tion on the "big three." It does include chapters on Mexico, Brazil, and Ar­ gentina, but also on Chile, Cuba, Uruguay, Peru, EC,uador, Venezuela, Puerto Rico, two on Colombia, and two on a continental scale. Thematically, the range is equally broad. The various chapters deal with the primary sector of the economy (banana and sugar plantations, peasant proprietors, copper mines, oil fields), the secondary (textile mills, tobacco factories), and tertiary (tram drivers, white-collar employees). Some ofthe contributors question these neat divisions and show the overlap between rural and urban labor and between different modes of production. The collection tackles the traditional themes of labor history: union organization, management control, legislation, resis­ tance, and strikes. It also reflects the broader concerns ofthe historiography of SPRING 2005 BOOK REVIEWS? 241 the last three decades or so with processes taking place outside of the work­ shop (family life, neighborhood, transportation, religion, public health, edu­ cation, nationalism, citizenship) and with components ofsocial identities other than class, namely race and gender. The last two terms (or "women") appear in the titles ofa third ofthe articles and as leitmotifs in the volume in general. Ubiquity, ofcourse, is no substitute for sophistication and the use ofthe race­ class-gender trilogy ranges, sometimes within the same chapter, from genu­ inely integrative applications ofthese analytical categories to bland reiterations of constructionist truisms. Some ofthe chapters suffer from a common ailment in labor history old and new: the tendency to frame discussion in the restrictive, and at times Manichean, dichotomies of repression/resistance and elites/workers. This ignores adaptive strategies other than protest, strategies that were less visible but surely more common than militancy and strikes. It collapses workers into an undifferentiated mass, at least in terms ofstatus, that ignores signifi­ cantgaps in income, skills, authority, consumption, and self-definition within the "working-class." It also overlooks the fastest growing sector of the popu­ lation during the century the volume deals with: those who considered them­ selves neither elite nor working-class. Sympathy with the latter at timesleads to interpretive inconsistencies in which authors read elite discourses "against the grain," but accept workers' pronouncements at face value. Given the emphasis ofthe volume on protest- an activity that necessarily stresses nega­ tive conditions-this unquestioned acceptance of workers' complaints can produce partial, and excessively lachrymose, depictions ofwarking-class life. But even the weaker chapters in this compilation provide some valuable information and the best form part of some of the most innovative recent studies of labor in Latin America.

Jose c. Maya University ofCalifomi a, Los Angeles

Blanket Weaving in the Southwest. By Joe Ben Wheat, edited by Ann Lane Hedlund. (Tucson: University ofArizona Press, 2003. xxvii + 444 pp. 191 color plates, 115 halftones, maps, tables, appendixes, notes, bibliography, index. $]5.00 cloth, ISBN 0-8165-23°4-5.)

This magnum opus ofa publication is a fitting tribute to the late Joe Ben Wheat (1916-1997). Without the high esteem accorded to him by three 242? NEW MEXICO HISTORICAL REVIEW VOLUME 80, NUMBER 2 women-protegee Ann Lane Hedlund, widow Barbara K. Wheat, and col­ league Linda Cordell-Wheat's incomplete and voluminous manuscript might never have seen the light of day. That occurrence would have left a void as devastating to southwestern weaving aficionados as Dr. Wheat's pass­ ing did to numerous students and friends who loved and respected this Anglo scholar from Van Horn, Texas. Wheat was a curator ofanthropology at the University of Colorado Mu­ seum in Boulder, the place where he also worked as an archaeologist, tex­ tile authority, and professor and where he chose to donate his collection of textiles. He began his southwestern textile research during a sabbatical in 1972 and, a year later, Hedlund joined him as an undergraduate student. Their relationship spanned many years ofcollaboration and exchange, which ultimately resulted in the student editing and completing her mentor's work. Wheat set out to photograph and analyze nineteenth-century southwest­ ern textiles in museum collections across the United States. He planned to augment this information with archival and historic research. Wheat's goal was to establish a systematic guide that would make it possible to identify, classify, interpret-and make comparisons-between the Pueblo, Navajo, and Spanish American weavings produced in the Southwest. By 1973, he had visited fifty museums and studied 3,500 textiles. Wheat continued to research southwestern textiles, especially Navajo weavings, throughout his life. The longevity of this project allowed Wheat to return repeatedly to his findings over decades and to enlarge, refute, and refine his conclusions. Blanket Weaving in the Southwest is divided into many sections. Follow­ ing the front matter where the three women pay homage to Wheat, six brief but dense chapters comprise the core of Wheat's research. They are, con­ secutively, "Historical Background," "Fibers and Yarns," "Colors," "Bayeta and Other Such," "Weaving Systems," "Weaves," and "Design." All but the final chapter was near completion upon Wheat's death; Hedlund assembled it from Wheat's notes, papers, writings, and interviews. The chapters are replete with maps, photographs, charts, diagrams, and tables. There was no matter so small that Wheat did not investigate in minute detail. His scholar­ ship was impeccable. The chapter on Bayeta, for example, often has as many as three citations per sentence. The ~'Catalogue of Selected Textiles" section is remarkably lavish and beautiful. There are 182 large color plates with descriptions of each textile arranged in a systematic manner so that the reader can not only learn about SPRING 2005 BOOK REVIEWS -+ 243 the textile's provenance, but can also compare the yarn's function, fiber, type, ply, spin, twist, color, and dye with that of other textiles. The textile illustrations and design layout are superb. The "Color Plates" section is divided into three categories. Each section is further divided into type. For example, the largest section illustrating the Navajo textiles (Wheat's particular interest) is divided into Navajo manta, dress, chief blanket, woman's shoulder blanket, poncho, sarape, and diyugi. This section ends with a few cross-cultural textiles that show visible proof of how one culture influenced another. Here are illustrated the Navajo/Spanish American "slave blankets" as well as three Spanish AmericanlNavajo "slave blankets" ­ testaments to trafficking in Native and Hispanic slaves in the Southwest during the nineteenth century. The reader is sometimes treated to Wheat's personal notes written at the time he analyzed a particular textile. For example, one Navajo chiefblan­ ket analyzed on 16 February 1973, Plate 50, states "Fuzzy surface, like new today." The provenance ofspecific textiles shows that "although an article might have been collected in a certain pueblo, it was not necessarily woven there but might have been traded or sold instead." Such is the case with several textiles that Wheat determined to be Navajo rather than Pueblo. The short notations - together with reproductions of Whe.at's handwritten notes, graphs, and drawings-personalize this publication in a wonderful manner. Unfortunately, the title is misleading. Linda Cordell's foreword states: "This book is about Native American textiles." By calling it Blanket Weav­ ing in the Southwest, the book buyer is led to believe that all three groups­ Pueblo, Navajo, and Spanish American-are represented equally. Such is not the case. Out of182 textile color illustrations, there are only 17 Spanish American blankets. This small number does a disservice to a vast weaving enterprise that, in 1840 alone, exported 20,000 textiles to Mexico. Addition­ ally, there is less than a page devoted to explicating the Spanish American blanket designs. Granted Wheat did not live to complete the Design chap­ ter, but he did publish on this subject during his lifetime. This material could have been culled for additional information and would have pro­ vided for a more even analysis of southwestern blanket designs. The reference material is thorough and replete with facts. Included is a wonderful chapter on collectors. The dye analysis and dye test results pre­ pared by Dr. David Wenger, professor at the University ofColorado School of Medicine, show the scientific rigor applied to 350 samples analyzed 244 ~ NEW MEXICO HISTORICAL REVIEW VOLUME 80, NUMBER 2 through spectrographic analyses. It is particularly interesting to see how the introduction into the Southwest of aniline dyes and Merino sheep in the 1870S resulted in both new and old materials being used in blanket produc­ tion. Three small mistakes were noted in the "Chronology, 1100-1997" (p. 351). The most obvious is the missing date, 1693, designating the year in which "General Diego de Vargas reoccupies Santa Fe." Blanket Weaving ofthe Southwest is a remarkable book that should be of particular interest to weaving and history scholars. Without a doubt, it is an indispensable reference for readers wanting to make comparisons between the weaving history, materials, and techniques ofthree distinct cultures that coexisted in the Southwest during the nineteenth century.

Helen R. Lucero Albuquerque, New Mexico

The Culture ofTourism, the Tourism ofCulture: Selling the Past to the Present in the American Southwest. Edited by Hal K. Rothman. (Albuquerque: Uni­ versity of New Mexico Press, published in cooperation with the Clements Center for Southwest Studies at Southern Methodist University, 2003. xi + 250 pp. Halftones, tables, notes, index. $34.95 cloth, ISBN 0-8263-2928-4.)

Before Coronado traveled through New Mexico and the Panhandles in 1540-1541, trade, warfare and raiding, and cultural exchange had been regu­ lar among southwestern Amerindians. Spanish and American conquest in­ corporated the region into the arteries of transatlantic mercantilism and industrial capitalism. Expeditions led by the Bureau of American Ethnol­ ogy in the late nineteenth century chronicled the resources, landscape, In­ dian ruins, and indigenous peoples of the Southwest for a nation racing to the Pacific slope. After 1865, European romanticism influenced the worldview of a Victorian America caught in the grip of industrialism. Ro­ manticism offered a bourgeois culture rich in nostalgia for the past, intense sentimentality, and authentic experience. The nationalist generation ofthe era, with anxiety and doubt, wondered whether the United States had tradi­ tions as old and worthy as Europe. Travel writers like Helen Hunt Jackson, Charles Lummis, and George Wharton James believed the indigenous cul­ tures and ruins of the Southwest embodied an American antiquity richer than Europe's. In the promotion of southwestern lands and cities, Spanish and Amerindian culture highlighted the special historical qualities of the SPRING 2005 BOOK REVIEWS -+ 245

region, ranging from worthiness to commercialism. Modern tourism repre­ sents just another phase of cultural encounter and exchange to transform the Southwest. And the stream continues. In The Culture of Tourism, the Tourism of Culture, Hal K. Rothman and ten contributors address the tourism experience in the American Southwest from 1880 to the present. Rothman notes that historically the "serving of outsiders at the expense of locals had gone from sacrifice to custom to way oflife" (p. 8). The diverse peoples of the Southwest always resent the nega­ tive impact of tourism, "but they recognize it as essential to their existence" (p. 8). The essayists consider how the alliance of tourism and cultural his­ tory help market and repackage experiences, social environments, and ma­ terial culture for our society ofconsumer capitalism and spectacle. Covering southern California to south Texas, essays by Chris Wilson, Sylvia Rodriguez, and Phoebe Kropp probe the underlying ethnic and racial politics of ro­ mance, nostalgia, and southwestern triculturalism. Marguerite Shaffer, Leah Dilworth, and Erica Bsumek examine how scrapbooks, souvenirs, and In­ dian artifacts assume individual meaning for tourists and fashion modern identity. William Bryan Jr., Susan Guyette, and David White explore ad­ venture tourism, and governmental and community cooperation to plan responsible cultural tourism and economic development for southwestern Indian villages. The essays by Char Miller and Rina Swentzell stand alone, respectively, in considering how tourism was another promotional tool in San Antonio and how the tourist and the Indian art market in New Mexico has undermined Pueblo community and identity. Rothman contributes a wide-ranging introduction and epilogue on tourism in the Southwest, fo­ cused on Las Vegas. At its best, the volume offers some deeply researched and sophisticated interpretations ofthe impact tourism has made on ethnic relations and iden­ tities in the region. Chris Wilson explores how cultural tourism for Indian arts, crafts, and imagery has maintained the racial hierarchy ofNew Mexico by creating ethnic and sexual personas. There is here a.sensitive treatment of Julian and Maria Martinez's relationship with the Museum of New Mexico, which incited culture change in Pueblo villages but broughtsteady income for Indian artisans. Rina Swentzell suggests that tourism has under­ mined Pueblo culture and identity through assimilation ofAnglo racial ste­ reotypes about Indians found in paintings, photographs, and White fascination with Indians arts and crafts. She laments the impact of tourism on Pueblo cosmology with its emphasis on multiple reafms of experience. 246 ~ NEW MEXICO HISTORICAL REVIEW VOLUME SO, NUMBER 2

William Bryan Jr., Susan Guyette, and David White investigate the corpo­ rate consolidation of adventure tourism in the Southwest, which limits ethical cultural tourism, and how municipal and state government can assist Indian communities to plan cultural tourism to benefit both tourists and locals. There are also welcome newcomers in the collection. The essays by Phoebe Kropp and Erica Bsumek on California's EI Camino Real and women's mail order connoisseurship of southwestern arts and crafts show the vicarious consumption and conquest of the romantic Spanish past and Indian artifacts by Anglos in search of authentic experience. Marguerite Shaffer, Leah Dilworth, and Sylvia RodrIguez argue that commercialized tourism and curio collecting fashions modern identity, shapes individual memory of the region by commodity fetishism, and perpetuates racial in­ equality. Char Miller criticizes municipal subsidy of tourism enterprises in San Antonio as an extractive industry offering only low-wage service work and continuing structural inequality compounded by race and ethnicity. In conclusion, the volume strongly contributes to the study of tourism in the Southwest. The Culture ofTouTism, the Tourism ofCulture also raises numerous im­ portant questions about politics, social equality, and historic preservation, either directly or through overt omission. In the reciprocal interests and needs of Indian communities, cultural institutions, and regional business promoters, the influence of local, state, and congressional politics plays a key role. Only the professional tourism consultants directly address this phenomenon. It is remarkable that preservation of the California missions, Mesa Verde, or places like Chaco Canyon and Acoma even happened in the early twentieth century. Antimodemist fascination on the part ofAnglo entrepreneurs merged with the corporate liberalism of the Progressive Era and the federalism of the New Deal to give Americans a lasting southwest­ ern patrimony. Changing social and political trends (as only Chris Wilson noted), especially by Mexican American and Indian activists, made special claims for minority participation and interpretation ofthe southwestern past so central to the tourist economy. Western tourism studies generally fail to make these connections, which are central to the more northeastern fields of cultural history. Viewing southwestern tourism in small pieces, most of the authors fail to grasp its longer historical development. When analyzing such concepts as memory, authenticity, and individual and collective con­ sciousness in the region, the authors could pay closer attention to continen- SPRING 2005 BOOK REVIEWS? 247 tal models in anthropology and sociology that stress both discourse and praxis. A case in point: in Char Miller's fine essay on San Antonio, public tax cred­ its and low-wage service work in San Antonio may not be a bad thing, of course, if the Service Employees International Union can organize the ho­ tel and restaurant industry to raise wages and income in this key sector of the local economy. The Culture ofTourism, the Tourism ofCulture is the best recent volume on tourism in the American West and a vital contribution to American cul­ tural history generally. The volume itself is produced well with appropri­ ately placed photographs that highlight the significance of the visual and material in history. The authors' prose inches ever closer toward greater public communication, where the work ofthe academy needs to be. Hope­ fully, this volume and others to come will convince the wider fields ofAmeri­ can history that study of the Southwest is not a parochial concern.

Matthew Bokovoy Oklahoma State University

Surviving the Conquest: A History ofthe Yavapai Peoples. By Timothy Braatz. (Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press, 2003. xi + 310 pp. Maps, notes, bib­ liography, index. $55.00 cloth, ISBN 0-8032-1331-x.)

Too much ofAmerican Indian history has been written from an assimila­ tion perspective that characterizes Indian people as passive victims, deny­ ing them agency. In addition to the implication that a "traditional" culture existed-characterized by its static, inflexible nature-this perspective as­ sumes that change is mere capitulation rather than a sophisticated response. Surviving the Conquest: A History ofthe Yavapai Peoples portrays the Yavapais of central Arizona as active participants in their history. With the goal of remaining in their homeland, they used various strategies to maintain their individual and group identities. Relying greatly on Yavapai sources, such as the Mike Burns manuscript held in the archives of the Shadot Hall Mu­ seum in Prescott, Timothy Braatz shows how the concept oftheir home­ land was central to their sense of who they were as a people. This central.· goal was behind their request for reservations. While administrators in the U.S. Indian Office intended the reservation system as a vehicle for the as­ similation of Indians into mainstream society-a place where missionaries and educators could instill values such as private ownership of land-the 248 ~ NEW MEXICO HISTORICAL REVIEW VOLUME 80, NUMBER 2

Yavapais requested reservations as "places to preserve Yavapai identities, not to become something else" (p. 24)' Braatz begins his book with an excellent review ofthe available literature on the Yavapai. The accounts ofYavapais Mike Burns, John Williams, Viola Jimulla, along with Edward Gifford's ethnographies, present the most ex­ tensive story of the Yavapai past. Peter Iverson's biography of Carlos Montezuma and Sigrid Khera's transcripts ofYavapai oral history add to the Yavapai perspective. However, historians ofArizona territorial history, 1863­ 1888, have tended to rely uncritically on US. Army and Indian Office records while dismissing Yavapai and ethnographic evidence. This is exemplified in the portrayal ofGeneral George Crook as an "able general who approaches sainthood" even though he "masterminded and directed two bloody winter campaigns of conquest against starving Yavapai and Western Apache fami­ lies" (pp. 15-16). In addition to replacing the perspective ofthe Yavapais as victims of U.S. expansion and endowing them with agency, another goal of the book is to correct the persistent misidentification of the four Yavapai peoples. This error is a legacy of US. Army accounts that first labeled the Yavapai peoples as "Apaches" and later called them by such misnomers as "Apache-Mojaves," "Mojave-Apaches," and "Apache-Yumas." Braatz corrects the misperception, distinguishing among the four Yavapai peoples-the Tolkepayas, Yavapes, Wipukepas, and Kwevkepayas. He compares and contrasts their various means ofsubsistence, stressing how much more challenging western Yavapai (Tolkepaya) territory was than its eastern regions. The first chapter is an excellent ethnography of the Yavapai world before the invasion of White settlers and the US. military. Two chapters focus on this invasion and the resulting chaos for the Yavapai peoples. The final two chapters describe how the Yavapais created a new existence for themselves, never losing sight of the goal of keeping their homelands. With its highly readable style, thorough documentation, and use of Yavapai sources, this book fills an important gap in the ethnographic and historical literature of the Southwest. By adding the voices of the Yavapai peoples, this exceptional narrative contributes greatly to our understanding ofhistory from the Yavapai perspective, something that has long been miss­ ing in accounts of the history of the Southwest.

Tnldy Griffin-Pierce University ofArizona SPRING 2005 BOOK REVIEWS? 249

A Dancing People: Powwow Culture on the Southern Plains. By Clyde Ellis. (Lawrence: University Press of Kansas, 2003. vii + 232 pp. Halftones, notes, bibliography, index. $19.95 cloth, ISBN 0-7006-1274-2.)

In his latest work, Clyde Ellis provides a comprehensive study of the development of the pOWWOW by Southern Plains Indians. Spanning more than a century ofhistory, the author synthesizes previous scholarship on the powwow and enhances this material with numerous interviews and his own personal insights. He traces the roots of powwows from early tribal prac­ tices, through the struggles on the reservations to preserve these dancing traditions, to growing public interest in Wild West Shows, down through twentieth-century development of the intertribal exposition. Throughout his narrative, Ellis connects changing dance practices to Indian efforts to negotiate between identity preservation and assimilation attempts by the American government. Using a mostly chronological approach, Ellis begins his discussion with Indiandance practices on the reservations in the late nineteenth century and efforts by federal agents to stop these activities. Southern Plains Indians saw their dances as both celebrations of identity and as sources ofspiritual power. Federal officials saw the dances as lingering resistance to assimila­ tion and a potentially dangerous call to rebellion. While so~e Indians who converted to "the Jesus Road" also came to view tribal dances as negative, many more continued to use dancing-and eventually Powwows-as av­ enues ofadaptation to a changing reality. Ellis admits toward the end of his work that the number ofIndians actually participating regularly in powwow culture amount to perhaps less than ten percent, yet he sees the effects of this culture as much broader, providing continuity to Indian identity. Although Ellis writes with an engaging style, his frequent use ofquotes is distracting and tends to disguise his own voice. At times, it is unclear who he is quoting, forcing the reader to jump a few sentences ahead to look for a footnote. However, his sources are sound, including a significant number of personal interviews along with important ethnographies and tribal records. His thorough examination ofsecondary scholarship is also important, mak­ ing his work probably the most complete synthesis on the powwow to date. Because of this factor alone, the book is an important addition to the field. The most fascinating aspect ofthe work, however, is what Ellis describes as a struggle among Indian peoples for control of their separate traditions while simultaneously emphasizing a collective identity. While intertribal 250 -+ NEW MEXICO HISTORICAL REVIEW VOLUME 80, NUMBER 2

powwows helped resurrect forgotten dances and traditions such as those honoring war veterans, they also brought about frequent conflict over tribal ownership of dances and songs. Indians continue to debate the value of the powwow, the effects of White participation, and the commercializa­ tion that some believe has diluted the spiritual power of dances. Ellis de­ scribes this tension remarkably well without providing his own judgments. The result is a rare glimpse into the world of the powwow invisible to the average observer.

April R. Summitt Andrews University

Telling Stories the Kiowa Way. By Gus Palmer Jr. (Tucson: University ofAri­ zona Press, 2003· xxx + 145 pp. Appendix, notes, bibliography, index. $17.95 paper, ISBN 0-8165-2278-2.)

Gus Palmer Jr., an assistant professor ofanthropology at the University of Oklahoma who is Kiowa and one ofthe few fluent speakers ofthe language, sees several differences between telling stories the Kiowa way and the way non-Indians tell them. A couple of caveats apply here. By stories, Palmer does not mean run-of-the-mill gossiping about people in the community nor does he necessarily mean well-known traditional stories. Rather, they are stories with an inherent Kiowaness, but which might crop up at any time in the course ofany conversation. Unfortunately, the only people who are going to tell these stories are aged Kiowa speakers and they usually tell only to close friends and relatives. First off, listeners have to be on their toes as the story can come at any time and in the middle ofany conversation. A listener might not even know a story has started and then have no idea when it has ended. And it can take a long time for a Kiowa to tell a story, not just minutes or hours, but possibly weeks, maybe months. The teller might start and stop, loop back, leave off for days, and then return to the story when the listener least expects it. Kiowa stories are filled with mystical entities, talking animals, and magi­ cal people. Now, non-Indians would be comfortable with these as they nor­ mally expect these elements in Indian stories. But where non-Indians usually chalk up talking animals to myths or tales, Kiowas might actually believe that a deer sang to them. It can be confusing. When an informant told him SPRING 2005 BOOK REVI EWS -+ 251 a story about being instructed to go find a tree that looked like a hand, Palmer.had the devil of a time trying to figure out if this story was actually true or whether it was all a dream. Finally, Kiowa stories are not monologues; rather, listeners are invited to participate. "There are stories that open and remain open so the listener is able to interact with the storyteller by adding comments, asides, stories, in­ terpretations, or other responses or remarks that make the story grow" (p. 109). At the very least the listener is expected to say"hew" - Kiowa for "yes" ­ at times to keep the story going or to start their own. For Palmer, Kiowa oral storytelling is some of the first authentic Ameri­ can literature. Unfortunately, there is little chance for non-Kiowas to hear the stories, as they are best told in Kiowa, a language that is on the decline to the point where even most Kiowas do not speak it. Hopefully, Palmer can save some stories for us.

David La Vere University ofNorth Carolina at Wilmington

Ghost Towns Alive: Trips to New Mexico's Past. By Linda G. Harris, photo­ graphs by Pamela Porter. (Albuquerque: University of New Mexico Press, 2003. xiii + 242 pp. 147 halftones, 14 maps, index. $19.95 paper, ISBN 0-8263­ 2908-x.)

One ofthe pleasures ofwandering around New Mexico is discovering its wealth of old towns in various states ofliveliness or decay. They are history made manifest, a record on the landscape ofeconomic change. Linda Har­ ris aptly titled this book in accordance with her finding that many of these "ghost towns" across the state survive, even thrive, and beckon to explorers like her. Her stated goal in writing the book was "to take readers along with­ out having them leave home" (p. ix). Of course the romantic ghost towns of New Mexico have been the sub­ ject of a number of books for armchair or actual travelers over the years.. Harris's book reminds this reader of Ralph Looney's venerable Haunted Highways, first published by the University of New Mexico Press in 1968. Looney's book has been enjoyed for more than three decades, but because these historic towns do not stagnate but continue to change-descending further into rubble or rising anew-his book is badly out of date. Ghost Towns Alive remedies that with fresh information and new photographs. 252 -+ NEW MEXICO HISTORICAL REVIEW VOLUME 80, NUMBER 2

Ghost Towns Alive offers brief descriptions ofseventy towns located in a diagonal band from the northeast corner of the state to the bootheel. Each description includes directions for getting there, some general historical background, and the town's current status. The ample accompanying pho­ tographs are both archival and new. Pamela Porter's photographs have appeared in several well-known magazines, usually in color, but these black and white prints demonstrate her ability to capture the textures of grass and weatryered wood and the architectural beauty of old churches and cemeteries. Linda Harris has received several book awards, and her approach and writing style are appropriate for her intended audience: conversational, the voice of a personal guide with a knack for description. I found no historical revelations here, and occasionally the author repeats a story about a town or a building that may be more story than history, but this is a book intended to provide a sense of the lives and current times of these towns. It succeeds very well. As a reader who has investigated a number ofthe "ghost towns," I enjoyed finding out from a skilled writer and photographer how some ofmy favorite places are faring today. The problems I found were few and minor. The only place I specifically missed from the coverage was the old mining town of Bland in the Jemez Mountains; otherwise, the book seems thorough in its inclusiveness. The only writing glitches I noticed were obvious editing errors (such as the re­ peated misspelling of the name of an important historic figure) that the publisher should have corrected. Ghost Towns Alive is a welcome addition to the travel literature on historic towns, dead or alive, of New Mexico.

Sandra D. Lynn New Mexico State University at Carlsbad

Voices ofthe Buffalo Soldier: Records, Reports, and Recollections ofMilitary Life and Service in the West. By Frank N. Schubert. (Albuquerque: Univer­ sity ofNew Mexico Press, 2003. xi + 281 pp. Halftones, illustrations, line draw­ ings, maps, notes, index. $24.95 cloth, ISBN 0-8263-2309-x.)

Noone has contributed more to knowledge ofthe buffalo soldier and his role in the frontier army than Frank Schubert. Gathering nearly one hun­ dred telling documents in this volume, the author offers readers a peek into the daily lives and careers of these ordinary individuals who performed ex- SPRING 2005 BOOK REVIEWS ~ 253 traordinary service for their country. Although little known until recently, soldiers of the Ninth and Tenth Cavalry and Twenty-fourth and Twenty­ fifth Infantry played major roles in post-Civil War Native conflicts, explora­ tion and reconnaissance, defense of the Mexican border against bandits and revolutionaries, garrisoning ofstage stations and' frontier posts, and es­ tablishment of law and order. Despite the oppressive atmosphere of their times, buffalo soldiers served with distinction and devotion to duty, rarely deserting. Drawing upon a lifetime of research, Schubert skillfully transports the reader into the world of contrasts in which buffalo soldiers lived: one filled with abuse and comfort, discrimination and respectability, and public in­ gratitude mixed with military honors. They scoured the Southwest for Apache and Comanche raiders, fought the Cheyennes at Beecher Island, scouted the threatening Llano Estacado, chased bandits, assisted law enforcement authorities in the Southwest and in the Johnson County War, fought the Spanish in Cuba, and defended one another. For their outstanding service, eighteen buffalo soldiers received Congressional Medals ofHonor, but only rarely could they relax in town without experiencing the prejudice, discrimi­ nation, ingratitude, and even abuse oflocal residents. Schubert documents their sterling service with hand-me-down equipment and mounts as well as their occasional defense of their civil rights, as in the famous incidents in San Angelo, Texas, and Crawford, Nebraska. Demonstrating personal con­ trasts, the author returns more than once to the controversial life. of Medal of Honor recipient Sgt. Emanuel Stance, who faced accusations ofabusing his men and was ultimately murdered on the road to Crawford. Of greatest interest to scholars and students alike are the glimpses into the daily life and interpersonal relations ofthe men. From recruits' reminis­ cences, personal letters, court-martial transcripts, officers' letters, pension applications, and "public announcements," readers see buffalo soldiers struggle to adapt to western life; clash with their sergeants; suffer horribly from heat, cold, and thirst; court ladies; develop camaraderie in their bar­ racks; display great patriotism in old age; and be continually denied social acceptance and promotion to officers' ranks. Lending greater realism to the documents, Schubert further brings these men to life by incorporat­ ing many photographs and illustrations. His well constructed maps greatly enhance the reader's understanding of the enormous range and specific locales in which the men served. Any student of the buffalo soldiers from· 254 ~ NEW MEXICO HISTORICAL REVIEW VOLUME 80, NUMBER 2 scholar to underclassman to layman will benefit from this fine collection documenting their personal experiences as they served with distinction in the Old Army.

Michele Butts Austin Peay State University

Soldier, Surgeon, Scholar: The Memoirs ofWilliam Henry Corbusier, 1844­ 1930. Edited by Robert Wooster. (Norman: University ofOklahoma Press, 2003. xx + 234 pp. Halftones, notes, bibliography, index. $29.95 cloth, ISBN 0­ 8061-3549-2.)

Fanny Dunbar Corbusier: Recollections ofHer Army Life, 1869-19°8. Edited by Patricia Y. Stallard. (Norman: University ofOklahoma Press, 2003. xix + 348 pp. Halftones, map, notes, bibliography, index. $29.95 cloth, ISBN 0-8061­

3531-X.)

Scholars researching military families in the post-Civil War West have used some ofthe writings of William Henry Corbusier and his wife, Fanny Dunbar Corbusier, in research. Verde to San Carlos: Recollections of a Famous Army Surgeon and His Observant Family on the Western Frontier, 1869-1886 appeared in 1969, printed by Dale Stuart King. I recall espe­ cially the rich details Fanny Corbusier provided about life at Fort Grant in the 1880s when her husband was assigned to the Tenth Cavalry. Nonethe­ less, Verde to San Carlos remains confusing in organization and presenta­ tion of material. Having limited appeal, it was generally found only in rare book collections. The descendents ofWilliam and Fanny Corbusier had complete copies of their ancestors' recollections and the University of Oklahoma Press is to be commended for publishing the Corbusier's memoirs as two separate vol­ umes. Robert Wooster and Patricia Stallard, as editors, are both acknowl­ edged authorities on military families and post life. Consequently, the volumes, although they cover in general many ofthe same events, arc both riveting. Each provides rare details that give students and scholars research­ ing the Indian Wars and the U.S. occupation ofthe Philippines early in the twentieth century a rich vein of primary source material that comes only from firsthand observations. SPRING 2005 BOOK REVIEWS? 255

William Corbusier's memoirs begin with his New York City boyhood in a chapter that deserves inclusion in social history readers. A gem, it is ex­ traordinarily rich with recollections of food, lighting fixtures, clothing, fur­ niture, and various medical remedies of the time, along with recreational activities, popular celebrations, and customs. Successive chapters cover a youth spent in the California gold fields before William entered the Union Army in 1864 as a contract surgeon serving under Gen. Benjamin Grierson in the western theater of the war. After the war, William made his career in the regular army where he practiced medicine on frontier posts and often served a civilian population as well. Throughout his career in the West, the Native peoples he met fasci­ nated him, and he learned the languages of the Yavapai, the Sioux, and the Shoshoni and later became a published ethnologist. By 1900, he was acting medical purveyor of the expedition to the Philippines and faced the im­ mense difficulty ofobtaining supplies for almost 60,000 men when he had enough on-hand for only 2,500. Mter becoming an adviser to Red Cross chapters, he devised an identification system for soldiers that those in the military refer to as the "dog tag." After a second tour of duty in the Philip­ pines, William returned home and after one more assignment, including an inspecting tour in Alaska, retired in 1908 at the age of sixty-four. In 1921, three years after the death of his wife Fanny, he revisited the San Carlos Indian Agency where he met the descendents of the Apaches that he and others had removed from the Rio Verde Agency in 1875. Fanny's recollections cover many ofthe same events, but her perspective is that ofa wife who faced the common problems women endured on fron­ tier posts. With five sons, she confronted the issue ofproviding her children with an education. At times she had to leave William at various posts to accompany a son back east so that he could attend school. Later, after the Corbusier sons were in professions of their own or at college, she faced a long separation from her husband during his tour of duty in the Philip­ pines. More emotionally expressive, her account often depicts her loneli­ ness away from her husband. Like William, however, she shared an interest in the Native peoples of the West and, in one chapter, gives the reader a riveting account ofa Sioux Sun Dance. William Corbusier may have called Fanny "little mother," but there was nothing frail or diminutive about her. She was instead level-headed, resilient, and pragmatic. Stallard suggests that Fanny had probably developed these qualities as a young southern woman experiencing the privations ofthe Civil War. In her marriage, Fanny was an 256 -+ NEW MEXICO HISTORICAL REVIEW VOLUME 80, NUMBER 2 unfailingly loyal wife and proud mother who rejoiced in her husband's achievements and her sons' accomplishments and marriages. Both Wooster and Stallard have included exemplary bibliographies and useful and excellent annotations. These two volumes are highly recom­ mended for historians of the American West and family life in that region. Both works deserve an honored place on the book shelf of every historian who specializes in the post-Civil War military and the military as it made its transition from the "Old Army" to the "New Army" at the turn of the twen­ tieth century.

Shirley A. Leckie University ofCentral Florida

Scenes from the High Desert: Julian Steward's Life and Theory. By Virginia Kerns. (Urbana: University of Illinois Press, 2003. xiv + 414 pp. Halftones, notes, bibliography, index. $45.00 cloth, ISBN 0-252-0279°-6.)

Virginia Kerns has produced a remarkable piece ofscholarship on Julian Steward's career and his impact on the development of anthropological theory. Through detailed examination of archives, unpublished papers, publications, oral histories, interviews, and her own fieldwork, Kerns has produced a fascinating and complex analysis of Steward the scholar, Steward the husband and family man, and Steward as product of his times and places. Kerns divides her presentation into twelve chapters. The first eight address in great detail events during the first half (19°2-1936) of Steward's life. She makes a convincing case that these years are of "greater importance ... to his theoretical work" (p. xi) on patrilineal bands in particular and cultural ecol­ ogy in general. The last four chapters cover the majority (1936-1972) of Steward's professional career, which Kerns considers oflesser importance. As a result, the volume emphasizes Steward's cultural ecology and de­ emphasizes his work on cultural evolution. Kerns succeeds in demonstrating her thesis that "[Steward's] concept of the patrilineal band [is] central to his intellectual work, [is] emotionally meaningful, and [is] unquestionably grounded in his own social experience and memories ofplace" (p. ix). This volume is more than an examination of the development of one as­ pect ofSteward's anthropological theory during a long and productive career. It is at least two books wrapped into one, for woven within the multilayered SPRING 2005 BOOK R EVI EWS ~ 257 analysis ofSteward's scholarship are numerous complex threads dealing with gender relations in Steward's personal life, gender and other socia-politics of the academy, and the effect ofthese situations and contexts on Steward's de­ velopment as a scholar and academic professional. These alternate threads, though compelling and important, are subject to some debate and often prove distracting to the central thesis. The historical reality is that Steward's forma­ tive and early professional years were spent in environments and contexts in which few women worked. It does not follow logically that Steward therefore chose, for example, to take anthropology courses only offered by men while at Berkeley (p. 66), or that he devalued women's labor because his mother could not support herself financially (p. 74), or that he "avoided women as infor­ mants" (p. 97)' He may have had little choice in the matter, and these poten­ tially serious implications would be more compelling if supported by data rather than circumstantial evidence. Women have been discriminated against in the academy, but Steward cannot be held responsible for that situation in as many contexts as Kerns seems to suggest. For readers interested in the sociopolitical contexts ofacademic life, Kerns' thought-provoking analysis generates questions and suggests avenues for future research. The current volume is a pleasure to read precisely because some of the points prove to be controversial and debatable.

Stephen E. Nash The Field Museum Chicago, Illinois

Disease in the History ofModern Latin America: From Malaria to AIDS. Edited by Diego Armus. (Durham, N.C.: Duke University Press, 2003. viii-t: 326 pp. Halftones, notes, bibliography, index. $64.95 cloth, ISBN 0-8223-3057­ 1, $21.95 paper, ISBN 0-8223-3069-5.)

A Pest in the Land: New World Epidemics in a Global Perspective. By Suzanne Austin Alchon. Dialogos Series. (Albuquerque: University ofNew Mexico Press, 2003. ix + 214 pp. Halftones, maps, tables, appendix, notes, bibliography, index. $22'95 paper, ISBN 0-8263-2871-7.)

These two new contributions to the field ofthe history ofdisease demon­ strate how social, political, and economic forces have shaped the epidemi­ ology, pathology, and human interpretation of disease in Latin America. 258 ~ NEW MEXICO HISTORICAL REVIEW VOLUME 80, NUMBER 2

The authors also offer insight into how historical interpretations of disease shift over time in response to political and economic conditions. Suzanne Austin Alchon's A Pest in the Land provides a critical overview ofrecent historical scholarship on the epidemiological dimension ofEurope's conquest ofthe Americas. The author, who has published widely on disease in colonial Ecuador, argues that in the past twenty years demographic histo­ rians of the conquest have tended to ignore or underestimate the role of human agency in the decimation ofAmerindian populations by infectious disease. She seeks to correct this by placing the impact of disease into a broader analytical context that considers warfare, Indian slavery, immigra­ tion, and internal migration as factors that compounded the impact of"vir­ gin soil epidemics," a term that denotes the arrival ofa disease to a previously unexposed population. Alchon also dismantles the notion ofAmerican exceptionalism - the idea that the Americas were free ofstrife and disease before Europeans and that Amerindian mortality rates were purely a result of the population's biologi­ cal isolation from the Old World - by placing this epidemiological night­ mare into a global historical perspective. Throughout the Old and New Worlds, economic-driven migrations, as well as military conquests, carried deadly disease to previously unexposed populations. Although virgin soil epidemics occurred with great frequency in the Old World, the intervals between outbreaks were usually spaced out over long periods of time, thus affording populations time to recuperate, and in some cases, to build im­ munities. By contrast, American post-1492 epidemics arrived in rapid suc­ cession, due to the increasing pace of overseas commerce and migration, thereby compounding the effects ofconquest and cultural dislocation. Draw­ ing on a diverse array ofcultural sources, Alchon also argues thatAmerindian psychological and ritualistic responses to the calamity were similar to those ofAsians, Africans, and Europeans. Estimating the pre-Columbian population in the Americas and charting the ensuing demographic decline has been fraught with methodological challenges but also political significance. Historical actors and scholars alike have massaged the figures to achieve a wide range of political and intellec­ tual objectives. The book's Appendix, "The Demographic Debate," pro­ vides a critical historiography ofdemography in the Americas, and suggests some provocative questions about the politics of history. The great strength of this book lies less in its original research than in Alchon's skill at synthesizing a vast body ofscholarship. Moreover, Alchon's SPRING 2005 BOOK REVIEWS? 259 analysis offers insightful comparisons into the colonization experiences of all of the major European powers. The book's major weakness is that its simplistic maps do little to illustrate Alchon's geographically far-ranging analysis. Diego Armus's edited collection on disease in modern Latin America shares Alchon's interest in the interactions between disease and human be­ havior. The contributing essayists "take medicine to be an uncertain and contested terrain where the biomedical is shaped as much by human sub­ jectivity as by objective facts" (p. 6). The authors therefore examine the political and social dimensions ofdisease from local, national, and interna­ tional perspectives. The authors also consider how cultural or social repre­ sentations of illnesses shape the behaviors of patients and doctors. The historical interpretations of Latin American medicine, disease, and public health have shifted over the years, from the celebratory histories written by medical professionals, to social control and social construction models. Armus's collection, by contrast, strikes a delicate balance by appreciating the complex and often contradictory actions ofboth the sufferers ofdisease and those attempting to cure them. Although the authors tend to divide into those more interested in health policy and popular response and those more interested in social or cultural representations ofillness and the ill, all the essays emphasize how the inter­ action between biological and social factors creates and sustains disease. Marilia Couthino on Chagas disease and Nancy Leys Stepan on malaria demonstrate how poverty in Brazil fostered certain illnesses, but prejudice against the sick hampered public health campaigns and impeded scientific research. Doctors who argued against such social prejudice existed, but were a minority. The social or racial prejudice ofscientists may also lead them to ignore evidence in solving a medical dilemma, as Ann Blum demonstrates in her essay on infant mortality in Mexican children's hospitals. Such atti­ tudes'by the medical establishment may engender resistance from the tar­ gets of public health campaigns, as Katherine ~liss and Diana Obregon demonstrate in their examinations of campaigns against syphilis in post­ revolutionary Mexico and leprosy in Colombia, respectively. Interest in a given disease may ebb and flow depending on its links to political and eco­ nomic interests. The Brazilian state's concern with eradicating malaria in the Amazon, for example, was directly tied to the rise and fall of interna­ tional investment in the region. Similarly Anne-Emanuelle Bim argues that the Rockefeller Foundation took on Mexican hookworm less because it was 260 ~ NEW MEXICO HISTORICAL REVIEW VOLUME 80, NUMBER 2 imperiling the populace than because its eradication was feasible and would bring prestige to the international organization and to the Mexican state. Solutions to given outbreaks are sometimes shaped by the political economy of the state; revolutionary Mexico in the 1930S took a social approach to syphilis (albeit coercive at the same time), while neo-liberal Peru in the 1990S avoided increased state expenditure when confronted with cholera. But politics does not necessarily always penetrate the medical profession as Ann Zulawski shows in her study of psychiatric care in post-Chaco War Bolivia. These two books reflect the continuing evolution of historical scholar­ ship on disease in Latin America. And all ofthe authors do an admirable job of respecting the state of medical knowledge while also offering insightful critiques into the interactions between microbes, individuals, societies, and states that shape the epidemiology and pathology of disease. Their conclu­ sions offer insight that may be of use and interest not oniy to students of history, but also to medical and public health practitioners.

Jonathan D. Ablard State University ofWest Georgia Book Notes

A Settling ofAccounts: The Journals ofDon Diego de Vargas, New Mexico, 1700-':"17°4. Vol. 6. Edited by John L. Kessell, Rick Hendricks, Meredith D. Dodge, and Larry D. Miller. (Albuquerque: University ofNew Mexico Press, 2002. xvi + 446 pp. Halftones, notes, documents li~t, index. $49.95 cloth, ISBN 0-8263-2867-9.)

The Not So Wild, Wild West: Property Rights on the Frontier. By Terry L. Anderson and Peter J. Hill. (Palo Alto, Calif.: Stanford University Press, 2004- xii + 263 pp. Halftones, maps, tables, notes, bibliography, index. $24.95 cloth, ISBN 0-8°47-4854-3.)

Catarina Garza's Revolution on the Texas-Mexico Border. By Elliott Young. American Encounters/Global Interactions Series. (Durham, N.C.: Duke University Press, 2004. xv + 407 pp. Halftones, maps, notes, bibliography, index. $84-95 cloth, ISBN 0-8223-3308-2, $23.95 paper, ISBN 0-8223-3320-1.)

The Strange Career ofBilingual Education in Texas, 1836-1981. By Carlos Kevin Blanton. Fronteras Series, no. 2. (College Station: Texas A&M Uni­ versity Press, 2004. ix + 204 pp. Halftones, notes, bibliography, index. $29.95 cloth, ISBN 1-58544-310-7.) Forgotten Tribes: Unrecognized Indians and the Federal Acknowledgment Process. By Mark Edwin Miller. (Lincoln: University ofNebraska Press, 2004. xii + 355 pp. Map, notes, bibliography, index. $59.95 cloth, ISBN 0-8032­ 3226-8.)

Native North American Armor, Shields, and Fortifications. By David E. Jones. (Austin: University of Texas Press, 2004. xvi + 188 pp. Halftones, illustra­ tions, bibliography, index. $55.00 cloth, ISBN 0-292-7°2°9-4, $24'95 paper, ISBN 0-292-7017°-5.)

The Modem Cowboy, 2d ed. By John R. Erickson, photographs by Kristine 261 C. Erickson. Western Life Series, no. 7. (Denton: University of North Texas 262 -+ NEW MEXICO HISTORICAL REVIEW VOLUME 80, NUMBER 2

Press, 2004. xvii + 211 pp. 58 halftones, bibliography, index. $18.95 paper, ISBN 1-57441-177-2.)

Contested Policy: The Rise and Fall ofFederal Bilingual Education in the United States, 1960-2001. By Guadalupe San Miguel Jr. Al Filo: Mexican American Studies Series, no. 1. (Denton: University of North Texas Press, 2004. vii + 168 pp. Tables, appendixes, notes, index. $21.95 cloth, ISBN 1­ 57441-171-3.)

Reconciling Modernity: Urban State Formation in 1940S Leon, Mexico. By Daniel Newcomer. (Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press, 2004. xi + 288 pp. Halftones, bibliography, index. $5°.00 cloth, ISBN 0-8°32-3349-3.)

Hello, Hello Brazil: Popular Music in the Making ofModern Brazil. By Bryan McCann. (Durham, N.C.: Duke University Press, 2004. 312 pp. 16 half­ tones, notes, bibliography, index. $79.95 cloth, ISBN 0-8223-3284-1, $22.95 paper, ISBN 0-8223-3273-6.)

20 Good Reasons to Study the Civil War. By John C. Waugh, foreword by Jim Lehrer. (Abilene, Tex.: McWhiney Foundation Press, 2004. 96 pp. $12.95 paper, ISBN 1-893114-46-5.)

Digital Imaging: A Practical Approach. By Jill Marie Koelling. American Association for State and Local History Book Series. (Walnut Creek, Calif.: AltaMira Press, 2004. viii + 85 pp. Halftones, notes, index. $69.00 cloth, ISBN 0-7591-0445-X, $24-95 paper, ISBN 0-7591-°446-8.) News Notes

Grants, Fellowships, and Awards The William P. Clements Center for Southwest Studies at Southern Meth­ odist University offers the William P. Clements Prize for the Best Non-Fic­ tion Book on Southwestern America to promote and recognize fine writing and original research on the American Southwest. The competition is open to any non-fiction book, including biography, on any aspect of southwest­ ern life, past or present, with a 2005 copyright. Submissions must be post­ marked by 17 January 2006. For further information, contact: David Weber, Director, William P. Clements Center for Southwest Studies, Southern Methodist University, Dallas, TX 75275-0176, (214) 768-3684, e-mail: [email protected], or visit the website: www.smu.edu/swcenterlprize.htm.

Western Writers ofAmerica announces its 2006 Spur Awards Competition. To be eligible, works submitted must be set in or relate to the American West or the frontier experience. Works submitted must have been published during the 2005 calendar year. Deadline for submissions is 3l December 2005. For more information, contact: Tracy L. Hutton, 5009 Justin Drive NW, Albuquerque, NM 87114, (505) 897-3813, email: [email protected]. or visit the website: www.westernwriters.org/spucawards.htm.

Archives, Exhibits, and Historic (Web) Sites The Albuquerque Museum announcesuPicasso to Plensa: A Century ofArt from Spain." The exhibit features early twenty-first-century Spanish art and includes examples of cubism, surrealism, constructivism, and geometric abstraction. The exhibit opens 18 December 2005 and runs through 16 April 2006. The museum is located at 2000 Mountain Road NW, Albuquerque. For more information, visit the museum website: www.cabq.gov/museum/.

The Museum ofInternational Folk Art, Museum ofNew Mexico, announces 263 "Taking the High Road: Art, Family and Legacy in Cordova, New Mexico." 264 ~ NEW MEXICO HISTORICAL REVIEW ,VOLUME 80, NUMBER 2

The exhibit celebrates the artists and the masterpieces of the Cordovan tradi­ tion and runs through 30 September 2006. The Museum ofInternational Folk Art is located on Camino Lejo, Santa Fe, NM 87505. For more information, call (505) 476-uoo, or visit the museum website: www.internationalfolkart.org/.

Calendar of Events 30 November-4 December 2005: The American Anthropological Associa­ tion announces its 104th annual meeting, "Bringing the Past into the Present: A Forum on the Ancient One and the Future ofAnthropology." The meet­ ing will be held at the Marriott Wardman Park Hotel in Washington, D.C. For more information, visit the website,: www.aaanet.org/mtgs/mtgs.htm.

1 January 2006: Deadline for submissions to the Filson Institute Second Academic Conference, "Comparative and Interdisciplinary Perspectives on North American Borderlands." The conference will be held 20-21 October 2006 in Louisville, Kentucky. For more information, visit the website: www.filsonhistorical.org/callforpapers.html.

1 February 2006: Deadline for submissions to the "'Spare No Pains' Zebulon Pike and His 1806-1807 Expedition: A Bicentennial Symposium." The sym­ posium will be held 3 June 2006 in Colorado Springs, Colorado. For more information, contact Chris Nicholl, Pikes Peak Library District, P.O. Box 1579, Colorado Springs, CO 80901, or email: [email protected].

8-10 February 2006: The Southwest I Texas Popular Culture Association and American Culture Association will hold its 27th annual conference at the Hyatt Regency in Albuquerque. For more information, visit the website: www.h-net.org/~swpca/index.html .

1 April 2006: The Clements Center for Southwest Studies announces its 2006 Annual Public Symposium, "Consumer Capitalism and Culture on the U.S.-Mexico Borderlands." The Symposium will be held at the Hughes­ Trigg Forum on the campus of Southern Methodist University in Dallas, Texas, For more information, visit the website: www.smu.edu/swcenter/ ConsumerCulture.htm.